Weight of the World
by GorillazObsessor
Summary: Sequel to To Save Us All- 9 thinks he's fulfilled his mission, but when 6 starts drawing more stitchpunks, 9 must discover their importance. The weight of the world itself is on his shoulders, but can he answer these new questions before it's too late?
1. Prologue

Prologue: Weight of the World

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Ink. He needed more ink. He never remembered needing this much ink in his long life. He rushed down the hall, expecting 5 to be in the doorway with his ink. He needed it. Life depended on it.

Well, it wasn't like life itself depended on this picture to be finished. It was more like: If the picture wasn't finished, no one would know they were coming. And if no one knew they were coming, they wouldn't know what to do. And if they didn't know what to do with these intensly important stitchpunks, all hope was lost.

He stormed over to the entrance - the back one, 1 always disapproved of him getting new ink before he was given permission - and spotted 5 not too far away, hauling an ink well for him, the ink stopped with a cork, closed and perfect, just a bit dusty. But 6 didn't care about that now. He didn't care about it's condition. He had to put it on his fingers, glide his hand across his yellow paper, draw what his mind was screaming, _now_.

"Hurry, 5! Please! I must show you!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth for greater effect, as 5 was a few paces away.

5 grunted, obviously struggling to hold the big object. It didn't look heavy, and it wasn't, but it was an odd shape - rectangular, almost.

"I'm almost there!" 5 called back, his head just barely showing over the top of the ink well. He stumbled a bit, making 6 perk up from his regular hunch and gasp in worry. No one could possibly know how important that ink was. If he didn't have that bottle, he'd use what ink spilled out of it. And if he didn't have paper, he'd use the very walls of the Cathedral.

Right when 5 reached the doorway, 6 was on the bottle, clutching it and holding it with immense care, cradling it in his arms like a mother to her child and practically running like such a child with scissors.

When he got back to his room, he continued, retracing the scrabbles of ink he had so panically etched in when he first realized he was out of ink. Then he began to feel what his mind was telling him, riding the dull pain with ease and letting it sink in, letting the vision clear his mind and take over his hands. He let it control him.

"T-two... Strangers... From... From afar..." he mumbled, his optics firmly closed and his hands active, drawing whatever he saw, whatever he was told to.

His mumbles attracted 5's attention, and then 2's, who had always believed there was more to 6. Bless his knowing heart, 6 thought roguely as he continued.

When he began to feel the slight pain ebb away, now completely nothing, he opened his optics, staring right down into the picture he had just envisioned below him. 2 and 5 both looked over his shoulders, both of their heads tilted either way questionably as they scanned the picture.

"P-please..." whispered 6, looking right up to the both of them, wringing his hands together and wiping the ink on his upper thighs subconciously. Creator, if only F were here to help him..."P-please remember... You have to remember him... What he did..."

5 leaned in on the picture, then getting so close he may as well kneel, so he did, and then he let his optics zoom, function, adjust, and he could see it clearly.

"It's 9." he said, 2 nodding an affirmative. 5 pulled his mouth to one side and scrunched his eyebrows in thought.

"B-but... Who are... _they_?"

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	2. More to the Stranger

The Weight of the World

Chapter 1: More To The Stranger

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9 hadn't seen any sign of life in two weeks. Two weeks ago he had walked out of that factory, not knowing what he was doing but glad he had done something right. He'd thought a lot about what the others had done when he was away, sleeping on the floor of the emptiness, not bothering to look for shelter, knowing nothing else was out there to cause him harm. He hadn't even bothered to dust himself off.

He sighed as he watched yet another day fall over the horizon, dangling so delicately, a beautiful sight for something so powerful to be controlled by the turning of the Earth. He was on the top of a mangled, dusty car, leaning back on his hands and crossing his legs, smiling up at the sky.

9 had taken to talking to himself, as there was no one else to talk to, and his mind longed to hear some sound.

"It's really symbolic..." he said to himself. "It reminds me that even something so beautiful and bright, something that has that amount of energy and power, is still in the long run controlled by something even greater than itself... Or perhaps not so great at all..."

He was right. Even the magnificent sun, something that once supplied the Earth's creatures with warmth and power, had to fade every single day just because the Earth was spinning around it. It had to die each day, just because the Earth spun on an axis.

9 sighed and watched it, counting the last several seconds out loud.

"Three... Two... One..." he breathed. "And... It's gone..."

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The next day, 9 rose with the sun, and continued walking. He was never sure where it was he was going, but he just walked, all day, most of the night, and he found himself memorizing the city he had come to call the Emptiness.

He often missed the others, missed the adventure and thrill he had gone through, but now felt quite empty. 7 didn't love him, and he would never fall out of love with her. 5 hadn't been taught to trust himself, though he trusted everyone else. 1 was still stubborn and uptight, surely he wouldn't believe 9's story.

What proof did he have anyways? He had a scar on his shoulder, filled in with red thread, but that had happened before all this mess, in any time he had been in. He had his knowledge of the future, what everyone said when he followed the path correctly, but he hadn't. He'd walked off.

What reason did he even have to be here? He remembered, only two weeks ago, when he believed that everyone had a purpose. And he knew he had a very important one once, but now there was nothing left for him to do. What of the others? Why were they still here? What more was there to do?

"Nothing." he said as he walked along, looking around at the quiet Emptiness with both love and hate. He didn't like this place, yet it was all he had. Solitude, isolation, self-exiled in this deep pain he would never know how to heal.

Eventually he would come upon something interesting in the Emptiness, and he would store it inside of him if it fit, or leave it upright if he wanted it enough, to come back to admire it later. He carried a spool of thread with him and some needles inside of him, but the things like small metal rods he would use if he needed were left behind. He didn't have as much room as he normally did because he was still hauling around the talisman.

He had also taken to building small figures with metal objects, like snowmen with snow, only there was no snow... There was no rain... 9 wondered why. He had stopped himself from waking the BRAIN, hadn't he? 

Why was there no rain?

Since there was hardly anything else to do in a place called the Emptiness, 9 pondered on this question all the time. But he never came up with an answer. Would he ever come up with an answer? Not by himself... He needed someone who actually knew it to begin with.

He needed 6 or F.

But in order to do that he would have to go back to the Cathedral, with the 5 that didn't trust himself, the nice 2 he felt guilty for just by looking at him, the leader 1, who 9 thought at this point he'd never get to listen...

And then there was 7.

9 had been doing a lot of thinking in his two weeks in the Emptiness, and when he wasn't thinking about the rain that should be coming, he was thinking about 7. Where was she now? Had she been thinking about the stranger that had just walked out of her life? Did she really see more to him? Would she ever?

Didn't she say souls never forget?

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The next day, 9 made up his mind. He was going to go back to the Cathedral.

He wasn't sure why he had decided it, but the main reason was because he was just plain tired of being out in the Emptiness alone. There was no one to talk to but himself, and often he couldn't think of anything to say. Besides, he wasn't getting anything done out here, except for thinking about 7.

And of course that was only getting him burying further within himself, drowning in need and sorrow.

He walked up to it now, in it's shadow, overwhelmed by the symbolism of standing next to it in all it's magnificence. It was indeed the single standing building for almost four whole blocks. It was the only one with a window that wasn't cracked that 9 had seen in a long time. He couldn't remember at the moment if he even had seen another with a healthy-looking window.

He pondered on how 5 and the other's would take his sudden return. Perhaps just as they did his sudden leave? Maybe they wouldn't care. Most-likely they wouldn't care. He was only one of them anyways, and they didn't need to worry themselves over a mysterious stranger such as himself.

But there was much more to this stranger than any one of the inhabitants of the Cathedral could ever get.

9 reached the back entrance, the way only the scouts used, and stepped into the dark room that had obviously been carved out of the wood. He was greeted immediately by a warm hug, that he returned with a surprised face.

"5?" he said, feeling the familiar scar of ink on his best friends back as he rubbed it comfortingly. He realized just how dusty he was in comparison with 5's kept and clean burlap skin.

5 was shaking slightly, and he felt a bit warmer than he remembered.

"God, 9, I'm so glad you came back." he said shakily. 9 murmured an 'It's alright'. "No, it's not. 1 can't stop talking about you. He's mad, 9! But I don't know why. And 6 won't stop drawing your name all over the place. First he drew two stitchpunks we don't know, and now it's your name! He's been out of paper for three days now and he hasn't complained once. He just keeps on drawing your name! And then today he walked up to the watchtower to tell me he needed to speak to you when you came back, and he was right, 9! You came back! And I'm so glad you did because-"

9 thought he'd stop him there. "5." he said firmly, a smile in his voice to assure 5 he wasn't being stern. "I'm fine. And I'm back. Ok? But now I think I have to talk to 6. He did say he wanted to speak with me, didn't he?"

5 let go and nodded, pulling back and looking up at 9 with worried optics, and his slight frown and pout he did when he was scared.

9 smiled gently, patting his shoulder, amazed that feeling someones shoulder under your hand could make you feel so relieved.

"No, where is he? I think I should see him first. Before 1." he chuckled slightly, trying to help make 5 feel better. 5 gulped and looked down. "Don't you think?" 9 urged.

"Y-yeah." 5 said quietly, leading him out of the room.

As they walked, 9 thought about and analyzed the information he had just been given. So 1 and 6 both wanted to talk to him. Why was 1 mad at him? He hadn't even been here to do anything! And what of 6? Why did the gifted stitchpunk, the only one who knew what 9 had been through, feel the need to talk to him?

5 walked toward the bucket elevator, keeping his head down as he did. It pitied 9 to see him in this state, cringing inward, drawn into himself by his own gravity, forever hiding within himself. 9 wanted him to see that he could be more, but he knew just by looking at poor 5 that that task could take much time.

"So what exactly did he say? Just that he needed to talk to me? Did he say what about?" 9 asked, watching 5's back.

"Just that he wanted to speak with you. And he just walked away." 5 said, a trace of worry still in his voice. 9 didn't like that sound, that worry. It was like a stubborn ember in a dying fire, one he was trying to put out, and no matter how much he stomped on it, it would still be there. Only when you used water would the ember finally cease it's burning.

"And what did you do?" he asked, pressing 5 into a dicussion.

5 took a breath, sounding a bit annoyed. He must have been used to the silence as well.

"I questioned it, but when I looked out into the telescope, as I was told to do by 2 since it was my watch, and I saw you walking toward the Cathedral." he said, it all seeming to come out in one breath.

Before 9 could think up anything else to ask, he noticed they had reached the bucket elevator that would take them upward to both 6's room and 1's throne room. It occured to him that speaking to 6 first would be rather difficult since going to speak to him would involve his presence being known by 1.

He offered to pull them up the bucket's shaft, and grunted a bit with the effort. He hadn't been streining himself lately, so he wasn't used to pulling his and someone elses body weight up three floors.

There was a clattering noise, and 1's voice sounded in through the Cathedral.

"Is it him?" he asked 8, who's head popped over the edge to look down at 9 with an evil grin.

All this was too familiar to 9, and he found himself remembering the past, or future, when he had done almost the same thing. Maybe he would get to quote the elder after all.

"It's 5 and the wee one." 8 grunted, looking back at what 9 guessed was 1, his smile wiped off his face and he took hold of the ropem beginning to pull the bucket up and into the throne room.

1 sat, high and mighty, upon his throne, his head held high and his staff held strongly in his right hand. His feet were flat on the floor, and his back was straight. His optics burned so fiercly into 9 that his burlap tingled, itched. He ignored it, staring up at 1 with dignity, a fierce yet subtile stare that 1 returned easily. The cats were at it again.

Before the inevitable fight began, 1 dismissed 5 from the throne room, and told 6 not to interfere. 6 frowned but nodded, silently giving 9 a desperate look that 9 easily translated into an urgent plea. 6 needed to tell him something. He would have to come by later perhaps. 9 nodded slowly, once, so as not to let 1 see.

6 disappeared in the shadows of his own confinement, only able to watch what he knew to be something worth hiding from.

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	3. Quarantine

Weight of the World

Chapter 2: Quarantine

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"I trust you know how dangerous it is out there." 1 said, keeping the calm he had a within his reach near as he could. "I want you to tell me exactly why you left, and why you've decided to come back."

9 surpressed a groan.

"I left because I felt like it. It's no concern of yours why I left. Maybe I don't even know myself!" 9 said defensively. "And I came back because I felt like being a part of something, felt like hearing a voice. I don't want to be out there by myself." his sentences got progressivly quieter, so by the time he had gotten to the end his voice was just above a whisper.

1's smile grew, and 9 looked up at the chuckle that had risen from the elder's throat. Wait, why was he chuckling? What was he up to? 

"So, we've got another weakling." 1 said, raising his head a little more, trynig to press dominance on 9.

"Weakling?" 9 asked, his eyebrows coming together furiously. "What do you mean? I'm not weak!" 

"You're just like 6. You are buried so deep within yourself that you must try to endanger others. But 6 learned the ways around here. He learned to obey. I let him draw because it's the only thing he wants. But you, you don't want anything. You're here to mess things up. I know what you're up to. So quit now, while I still agree you should be safe and held here with us. There's more to you, 9. Don't make me change my mind."

9 was baffled. What was 1 saying? Why did he compare him with 6? What on Earth had happened while he was gone?

But suddenly, he snapped. He didn't know where the anger had come from, but it was time to let it out.

"I'm not hurting anyone else! Tell me, who here has gotten hurt because of me? I did all I goddamn could about saving everyone's lives and this is the thanks I get?" he shouted, making 1 jump the slightest and 8 grip his blade. "I went back in time to save the ones I care about, and just when I think everything is going to be ok, I come back to find no one knows what the hell I've been through, and no one gives a goddamn SHIT!"

There was silence in the throne room. 9 expected 1 to be glaring at him, but he only gave a calm stare. He suddenly realized what he had just said. He had just admitted everything to 1! Maybe... Maybe the elder would believe him?

"8. Seize him."

Well, he had tried.

"Hold him in this room until further notice. I don't want him escaping..." then, in a much smaller voice, sadder, his face filled with an almost mock sorrow. "He couldn't face those monsters alone... Poor thing is talking about time travel..."

9 couldn't believe what he was hearing. 1 thought he was crazy? Or was it all an act? But what if 1 really did think he needed to be quarantined for his own good? How would he ever get 1 to trust him now?

8 lumbered toward him, leaving his blade and leaving himself naked of protection. Not that he needed any protection from 9, who was half his size. 9 let 8 hold his arms behind, not putting up a fight. He didn't think it was helping his case if he screamed and fought back like he wanted to.

"9. I want you to stay in this room. It may seem useless, but you have 6 to keep you company." said 1, not adjusting himself in his high throne. "You need to..." he took a nasty grin that left 9 insanely confused. "Rehabilitate..."

"Where should he stay, sir?" asked 8, his head looking almost lowered, treating 1 like royalty. In a sense, he was. He was high and mighty because he was the first, the most experienced. There must have been many things no one else knew but him...

1 took a glance around the room. His optics narrowed and his head swayed from one side to the other swiftly, scanning the room he must have memorized by now before keeping his optics on a certain spot. When 9 tried to turn his head to look over in the area he found himself unable to see anything except the rough burlap of 8's chest.

"Over there, 8. Inform 2 he must make a bed for this new addition." he said, then sitting back in his throne. 8 grunted in agreement and turned his massive body, hauling 9 over to what he could now see as a small hole in the wall, right next to 6's. He raised an eyebrow. Did 1 really think he was going to keep 9 in this hole for... Wait- how long had he said he would be staying here?

9 turned, only allowed to toss his head over his shoulder and stare at 1 with a sideglance.

"1, how long do I have to stay here?" he asked, wiggling a bit in 8's firm grip.

"Oh, as long as it takes..." the elder murmured, a small smile on his lips as he sat back in his chair, closing his optics.

8 heaved 9 off the ground suddenly and 9 held in a yelp. He was hurled a few centimeters, landing on his feet, but his knees buckling. He fell flat on his hands, a gasp and yelp still in his throat for the sudden weightlessness he had suddenly experienced.

As 8 chuckled, walking away and leaving 9 in the darkness of the hole in the wooden walls, 9 found himself feeling rather cold. He rubbed his arms, pulling his body into himself. It would soon be Winter here, as the twins had taught him so very long ago. He doubted he would see any snow or rain anyways. He still needed to figure that out...

He sat there for hours, listening to the content scrabbles of 6's drawings. What was he drawing? Why was he even here?

He soon grew bored of the scratches and scrabbles, and he began to pick at a few splinters around him, investigating his entrapment. It looked safe enough, save for the slight icy blowing coming through the small holes in the wall behind him and the small splinters on the side walls. Even though there was enough space to fit three stitchpunks, discluding 8 of course, 9 felt cramped. He sat up, leaned against the side wall gently, so splinters wouldnt dig into his back, and pulled his legs up to his zipper. The same thought repeated in his head for hours.

He shouldn't have come back...

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He woke in the middle of the night, shaking from a nightmare, made up of his memories. They must have been. Stitchpunks didn't have dreams. He knew that. Everyone knew that. It would be stupid to assume he had thought up something that hadn't happened yet, since all they could see as they slept were memories they had already experienced.

He suddenly remembered that dream he had had two weeks ago, when he had come back in the talisman. Where had that come from? He had never seen those two in his life, despite his many wanderings and adventures. He had never experienced that moment of explaining a kiss to the others. 

Was that what a human dream was like?

He sat up, remembering he had laid down after about the third hour. He was no longer too tired, as he had gotten plenty of rest, so all he could do was sit there, gazing into the darkness of the throne room. It wasn't actually too dark, as moonlight shone in through the haze of the Emptiness and the stained glass window that he marveled at.

After looking around, he began to wake up, realizing why he was lying here to begin with. Thinking about his situation a little more, he realized how sudden it had all been. He had barely walked in the Cathedral when 1 had banished him to this desolate corner, for Creator and 6 knew how long. Why had he even done that?

He rubbed at his optics before standing. He couldn't just stay here all night, in this cold corner of the throne room, shoved in a space with a draft. He wasn't about to let his gears freeze.

He walked across the room, carefull to make absolutely no noise, as his past had taught him. He went straight for 6's room, noticing the scratching from earlier had been replaced, extinguished, with silence. Most likely, 6 was asleep. But knowing the artist as well as he did, this guess was probably wrong.

9 carefully peeked his head around the small wooden barrier that was admittingly a weak attempt for a wall. If a storm came in, his room would break open, making 6 either very cold or very splintered himself. But 9 tried to stay on topic.

"6?" he called, his voice hardly big enough to be called a whisper, yet slipping from his mouth calm as the midnight wind.

6 sat up immediately - without so much as a rustle of paper that had covered him - as if 9 had screamed in his hearing receptors. 9 didn't jump. Very few things made him jump anymore.

"Must show you. Must show you..." 6 whispered, sitting up and reaching up to take 9's arm, which 9 held out gladly. He knew this was important, but he also hadn't seen the artist in what felt like ages. He needed to touch someone who knew what he had gone through.

"Yes, 6. 5 told me it was urgent. What must I see?" he whispered back, following 6 into his cramped room, carefully avoiding a pile of blank yellowed papers that had been placed right in the entrance.

6 lead him to the very back corner of his room, and only when 9 was practically fabric to fabric with him did he bend down to retrieve a small paper, easily able to fit in 9's chest cavity.

The older ragdoll pushed it to his chest, looking directly and firmly into his optics as he did so, never straying his gaze from 9's facial reactions to what he was about to see.

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	4. Lies

The Weight of the World

Chapter 3: Lies

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9 noticed the silent and waiting expression on 6's face, and his eyebrows twitched. He shifted his optics' gaze down to the paper before him, clutched in his copper hands, barely visible in the darkness. The picture was barely there, but 9 could easily tell what it was.

He recognized it instantly.

"These... These are the people I saw in that dream..." 9 said with revelation. He may have just connected another piece of the puzzle.

Since when had there been another puzzle to solve?

9 examined the two shapes. They were dark, emprisoned in 6's pain and ink, the dark side of his soul. They were obviously stitchpunks, and they were holding hands. And even though he and 6 both knew there were other's already out there, he didn't recognize these two.

"B-but who are they?" he asked, looking back up at 6, meeting his intrigued optics. The tortured artist seemed intent on bringing his face as close to 9's as possible.

"Important, 9." 6 said, in a voice as serious as a heart attack, staring into so much more than 9's optics. "So... So important..."

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9 had tried to get more out of 6 that night, but he recieved no new pieces of information regarding the mystery stitchpunks that haunted 9's dreams.

He had eventually moved back to his own hole in the wall, and he found himself waking up to the steady stream of light shining through his favorite stained glass window. He sat up from his hunched position and looked around the room. 1 was not here, he could feel it. His absence was like the tiniest breath on the wind, but he felt it all the same, knew he was gone.

He stood, noticing the blanket around his shoulder fall from him. He wondered who put it there, but the thought was terminated as he realized it didn't matter too much. He needed to talk to 1, to convince him of his sanity.

He walked past 6's room, and took note that the artist was not occupying it. With a cocked eyebrow, he looked to 8's usual post near 1's throne. Nothing. Where was everyone?

With slight hesitation, and a glance around the room, he walked over to the bucket elevator, which was still at the top of the tower, as if someone had left it there for him, inviting him to come down. Still confused, but as always intrigued, he walked forward, stepping carefully onto the metal bottom of what must have once held something other than air and dust.

"And just where do you think you're going?" sounded 1's voice from somewhere behind 9. Instead of jumping, like anyone else would have, he merely frowned and sighed, turning slowly, looking 1 right in his optics.

"I think I'm going to look for 6. But of course you seem to do all the thinking around here." 9 said coldly, giving 1 a look of pure annoyance and defiance, one an agitated cat would give it's master. 1 glared, his hands balling into fists. He had seemed to come out of nowhere, like he had been there the whole time, invisible.

"I seem to do the job better than you could." 1 said, taking a sigh and striding over to his throne, his cape swaying gracefully as he walked.

9 mentally facepalmed. How would he get 1 to believe him if he made him an enemy? Maybe it was time to live the way he wanted. He would have to work for 1's friendship and 7's love. He would need to start now if he ever wanted these things.

"1, I'm sorry for that." he said, looking up at the man who was now his leader. He wouldn't kiss up to him, but he did have to make peace now before things got any worse. "I left because I'm in love with 7."

It felt amazing to say, really. It was like he had let out a huge breath he had held for two weeks. He hadn't told a soul until now. He hoped it would be enough of a confession to persuade 1 to trust him enough. He had to tell his story.

1 was frozen, the name making him stiffen visibly. He trembled so bad that even 9 could see it, from a whole foot away. His hands clenched on his staff for the breifest moments before he frowned down at 9.

This time, the frown was not poisoned with mockery. Nor with anger. It was the face of a truely sorrowful king who had lost a great citizen of his village.

"She is dead." he said, shaking his head slightly, closing his optics in sorrow, obviously not wanting to see 9, who had just confessed his love for her, react to the news.

"No." said 9, prepared for 1's exact statement. "She isn't. I saw her two weeks ago, when I went out with 5. We saved 2, but if she hadn't destroyed the Cat Beast-"

"Enough." said 1, a look of pain on his face. "She is gone. Therefore she is dead. No one can survive combat with one of the monsters. She must have been torn to pieces..."

"But she wasn't-!" 9 began, raising his voice just a bit. 1 looked up suddenly, a mock anger back in his voice and expression. 9 was not afraid.

"9, you are delusional. You only think she is alive. You only thought you saw her talk to you after battle. She was killed, 9. But you had nothing to do with it..."

"I know I didn't!" 9 said a bit louder, stepping one foot forward in excitement. "Because she is still alive! I saw her because it was real! I saw her living, talking to me, telling me she remembered me! Don't try and make me forget! I won't forget!" he realized he was clutching his zipper, and somehow his voice was getting smaller. He didn't want to whisper, he wanted to scream.

"Forget what, 9?" 1 implored, his optics hard and cold, yet burning with a fire no one could control. "How can you forget something that never happened?"

"But it did happen! You're trying to convince me that all I've been through is a lie! But you have no idea what it is I've even been through!"

"I do have no idea... You talk of time travel, you talk of love with those that have been gone for years..." said 1, keeping his volume down. "You've obviously been through much trauma, like 6, and you need to be cared for."

"I don't need you! You're trying to keep me here and-" 9 yelled, finding his voice still disobeying him. He couldn't make it louder, though he wanted to yell at 1 for feeding him these lies.

But he paused right there. 1 quirked an eyebrow, waiting for 9 to ellaborate on his now confused expression.

"You're trying to..." 9 said to himself, looking down at the carpet in thought. After a second of realizing he couldn't possibly know, he looked back at 1. "What _are _you trying to do?"

1 blinked, his expression one of confusion.

"I'm trying to keep you safe. There are dangerous things out there, 9. And you've already been through so much... We don't need to lose another one of our kind... We... We are the only things that this planet has left. We must keep the spark alive." 1 paused, bringing his hands together and leaning down a bit to stare at 9.

"And we can't keep the spark of life alive... Without staying alive ourselves."

"But the only thing out there now is 7 and the twins... They are still alive. We have to find them. We have to find out why it hasn't rained yet... We have to find out who those two stitchpunks are!"

1 had a solid expression on his face, as if he had decided something right then and there. "9, you are to stay here until you can admit you have no recollection of these events, and that only we can help you here. When you can tell me this, you will be free to have privileges. Now, please return to your corner, I must have a word with 2."

With that, the elder left the room. And it was then that 9 realized what 1 had decided when he was leaning back up.

"He thinks I'm crazy." he said to himself, staring at his hands out of habit. "He'll never believe me now..."

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	5. All Along

The Weight of the World

Chapter 4: All Along

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9 slunk back over to his isolation, his punishment for a crime that he hadn't commited, and one that wasn't actually a crime at all. He leaned against the wall, next to the massive hole in the wall. He didn't care much for splinters dugging in his back. He slid slowly down the wall, his back heating up with friction, a blank stare on his face.

He was lost, he didn't know what to do. He had tried, he really had, but 1 was either in the know and trying to convince him of insanity, or the only thing he believed about 9 was his "lack of sanity".

Both ways were bad.

If 1 knew about everything, why would he be covering it up? And how did he know? This was why 9 highly doubted 1 knew anything about what he has been through. And this was also what left him to rot with the only other option.

1 thought he was insane.

"It's kind of funny," he said to himself, out of a measly habit that had formed from only two weeks in the Emptiness. "That he could be right..." 9 didn't hear the bucket elevator clank and someone enter. "Maybe I just imagined all this... Maybe F and G don't exist. Maybe I imagined going back in time, saving everyone from a death I caused myself. Maybe I'm not even here right now." he found his voice getting louder and more panicked each sentence, each word. "Maybe I'm-"

"Thats a lot of 'maybe's, 9." said 2, frowning sadly, yet smiling helpfully. 9 blinked in surprise, but didn't stand. He didn't even smile. He just watched 2's figure walk towards him gently, with the slightest limp, in his hand a rolled up strip of yellow paper.

"It's also a lot of fear." said 9, remembering what 7 had once told him about how only cowards hid their fear.

2 pulled one corner of his mouth a little higher in a smile. "You really think what 1 said about you being insane is true?"

"I..." 9 looked down, pulling his legs closer to him, partially because the air was freezing and he was right next to the holes in which the wind came from, and partially in mental defense. "I don't know..."

"9," said the elder gently, leaning against the wall beside him. "You know, when you think that you're crazy, it means you aren't."

"What do you mean?"

"If you were really crazy, you wouldn't have a sane thought in the world. And thinking that you are crazy is proof you have control over what you think, which would make it impossible for you to be insane." 9 smiled, understanding yet still confused. Was this how 2 talked? In riddles mixed with philosophy?

"I haven't really ever had a talk with you..." 9 said, suddenly feeling the tightness in his optic signifying a dry sob threatening to show. "I never had the chance..."

"What do you mean?" 2 asked, placing a hand on 9's shoulder. "You just met me. Of course you havent had the chance yet."

"No, I..." 9 said, once again regretting that no one knew what he was talking about. "I really haven't. I havent just met you, 2..."

Instead of reacting like 1 had at his strange statement, 2 merely tilted his head in gentle question. "What do you mean, 9?"

"I've known you for a while now." 9 admitted, looking right at 2. He had to tell someone, and if 1 wouldn't listen then hopefully 2 would. Maybe 2 was logical, maybe he wouldn't believe him. Would the elder then agree with 1 that 9 was insane?

"How? I just met you two weeks ago. Unless of course two weeks is what you meant."

9 looked away for a second, gathering his calm and letting his mechanical soulpulse slow inside him. He had to tell someone.

"I've known you for more than a year. I've traveled in the past, 2. I've seen everything. Everything that happened, everything that has happened, but hasn't yet. I've seen you die, I've seen everyone in this Cathedral die. I've seen other stitchpunks, other tribes. A through H. All like us, all the same... But me. And I've fallen in love, I've corrected my mistakes, and I've saved everyones lives in the painful process."

There was a moment of silence as 2 must have thought about everything 9 had just said. Who would believe him but 6? Would 7? Would G or A? Who would believe him?

"9, why did you leave the factory?" 2 asked gently. That was it? No questions about why 9 would make up such a story? Nothing about how impossible it all seemed?

"I-I..." 9 said, looking at 2 with a shocked face. "You believe me? Wh-why?"

"6 said something about you the other day, 9. He said you were telling the truth." 2 smiled, a heart kind smile that 9 found himself smiling back to. It was exactly like 5's, but it was warped with 2's essence. 5 was the young loyal citizen, and 2 the elder who seemed to always be a step ahead. "And I now know what he meant. You are telling the truth. I believe you." he kneeled, so his optics were level with 9. "I also see it in your optics. You wouldn't lie to me..."

"I wouldn't." 9 admitted, then looking down. "Because I would feel horribly guilty."

2 seemed confused. "Guilty? Oh, I wouldn't call you guilty. I-"

"No. I would feel guilty because after what I did to you," he said, interrupting, looking right into those optics he never got to memorize. "I wouldn't be able to... I killed you, 2. I killed you."

2 frowned, his grip on 9's shoulder becoming tighter suddenly, and 9's body shaking under the guilt that was like a stain of blood on his soul. Blood never came out. And then suddenly, 9 was wrapped in his arms, being comforted by the elder and hushed as he sobbed for the overwhelming sense of horror and guilt that would forever plague the youngers mind. 2 held him, like a father would hold their son, strongly, encouragingly, comforting.

It was then, in the middle of his sobs, that 9 realized he had needed this all along. This was the moment for trust and understanding to finally break loose, for confessions to be told, and it was all to someone he now knew as a father figure. He had been inspired to go through everything he had because of this lone stitchpunk, and he was here now, comforting him. This was like a release for him. It gave him strength, yet it wasn't parasitic. He wasn't taking anything away from this man... Not anymore.

"2, I-I came all this way... All this way for you... It wasn't whole without you... I gave her up so you could be there, laughing and smiling with us... I w-wanted you to be there with us... We weren't whole without you... We're only fragments..." 9 kept sobbing, rocking back and forth and burying his face into 2's shoulder.

"Calm down, 9. Please, it'll be alright. What do you mean you gave her up? Who?" 2 said, sad to see 9 in such an upset state. He wasn't bothered by the fact that the very stitchpunk he was comforting had killed him so long ago, or two weeks ago.

"S-7." 9 sobbed, not caring how pitiful he sounded. "I love her, 2. B-but she doesn't love me. Not here, not in this time. W-we were going to have a life together, but then everything... everything happened... And then when I thought it was d-done I remembered you. How we couldn't have done any of this without you. You were why I did it, why I left her, why I gave her heart to time. I gave her and the others, my whole life up, so I could save you..."

2 listened, not argued or judged. 9 was picking up these little things about 2 that made the man himself. He was a good soul, very kind and warm, and he knew just what to do to help someone overcome something, as he was doing now. 9 was 2's main concern now, and 9 felt the arms around him were helping greatly.

"You loved her." 2 said gently, rubbing 9's sobbing back gently, "And you still do..." he paused in thought. "I bet she'll eventually come to love you as well, 9. If it happened before it will happen again..."

9 didn't know why, but that exact statement made him stop sobbing altogether, made something in his mind ring, like that was the correct answer to a question on a gameshow. 2 had just something very important.

If only he could figure out what it meant...

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They stayed like that, clinging to each other, neither knowing why it felt so completing to do so. 9 couldn't stop apologizing, and 2 wouldn't stop comforting, and eventually 6 grew impatient.

He rushed from behind his secret hiding place behind 1's escape route that was hidden by a painting, knocking it down. 2 and 9 broke away, looking up curiously at 6, who hadn't seemed to notice. The artist sped toward them and stopped right at their feet, glancing between the two expectantly.

"Go." 6 panted, looking at 9. "Remind them. Have to remind them. Have to know. Must be prepared."

"But how?" 9 replied, hardly understanding what 6 was saying. "I can't get out of here without 1 sending 8 after me. The only way to get out of here would be to run, wouldn't it?"

6 simply cracked a knowing smile, shaking his head slowly.

"Fly away, 9." he said, leaning in. "It lives."

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	6. Breaking Out

The Weight of the World

Chapter 5: Breaking Out

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9 only needed a second before he understood 6 completely. It was all in his smile, his insane smile that gave away some sort of message, some sort of click, to 9. If 9 couldn't make sense of 6's words, he would look to his expression.

"The Balloon." he said, "Of course! But how will I get to the room without 1 seeing me? What do I do when I get out? What if he catches me?" 9 asked in a rush, panicking. What was 6 even asking him to do?

"Keep running." 6 said simply, locking optics with 9's, whose head had snapped up at the statement. That was what... what he had told him when...

"Come along, my boy." 2 said, standing upright, groaning just a bit with the effort it took to heave his old joints around. "If 6 wills it, it must be done." he said seriously, probably the only person who believed 9 besides the other who had actually been there. He was also the only one who trusted 6 at the moment, besides F of course, who was probably far away.

That was something he hadn't thought too much about. What were F and G doing?

9 didn't know why he needed to get out of there so desperately - or why 1 wouldn't let him go and leaving this Cathedral actually required a break out - but he agreed with the only stitchpunk who trusted him, the only one he didn't know enough to have earned trust from. He had technically just met 2, and already the elder was loving and kind to him, greeting him with open arms and letting him cry on his shoulder. 9 felt loved in his presence, like he had meaning. He didn't want to let go of that feeling, no matter how little he felt he deserved it.

9 stood, nodding. "What about 1?" he asked softly, as if afraid said mysterious leader was in the room lurking, though he had just seen him leave minutes before.

"I'll take care of it." said 2, a fierce strength in his voice that 9 hadn't expected to come from a man with such natural kindness. He sounded almost mad at 1, but what on Earth for? "He's been acting weird lately. He seems to know something... I think it's tied to what 6 drew... Or maybe you just put him off his mark." he finished with a chuckle, limping lightly over to the bucket elevator, 9 and 6 following patiently.

"Why is he mad at me? I havent done anything yet to upset him! I just didnt come back with 5... What does he think I did?" asked 9, speaking with both his voice box and his hands, moving them with his questions, as if they would help him ask.

"I don't know. But I dont think any of that can be answered yet. Right now, we must warn the others of the two new stitches. I'm pretty sure 6 wants us to tell them that they are immensly important... For what, we shall figure out..."

9 liked 2. This man was just like him, determined to fight for the truth, holding out for no one but his instincts. He didn't have to rely on strength, but instead used cunning to solve problems and get out of sticky stituations. 9 understood why 5 would cling to him, he had a lot to teach, and like the human child, they felt the need to absorb information. 9 found himself already doing the same as 5.

"Now stay here, I'll go down first and make sure he doesn't come up this way, so you wont be seen." 2 said as he approached the bucket elevator. 9 nodded, staying back with 6, who simply plopped down right in the middle of the floor, smiling and leaning back on his arms, palms facing the floor.

9 looked to him, smiling at 6's suddenly relaxed features. "You seem happy." he commented, chuckling. 6 nodded rapidly, energetic and yet so calm. Seeing 6 like this eased 9. 6 wasn't worried about not making it out of here, so maybe 9 shouldn't be either.

"Look." 6 said suddenly, getting up and walking over to the bucket to peer down the shaft, his optics just barely poking out, so that whomever lie below wouldn't be able to see anything. 9 followed suit, and he found himself staring down at 2, who was gesturing his arm in the air, calling the coast clear and calling 9 down.

"Come on, 6." 9 said softly, getting up and helping 6 into the bucket with him, standing and peering over the side with caution. After a moments hesitation, 9 began to lower the bucket, and himself and 6 with it, but the closer they got the the ground, the slower 6 asked 9 to go, until they were hardly moving.

"Whats wrong?" 9 asked, his entire strength going into holding the bucket up, suspending them in the air. Silence hung in the air, unwelcome but intruding anyways, making 9 nervous. What was taking 6 so long to answer? Why had he told him to stop?

"No moving." 6 whispered after a while, making 9 relax at first, but tense at the words. He obeyed, silent and still, holding the rope that kept them midair like a lifeline, clinging to his with both his legs and his arms as he sat down on the bucket floor, as 6 had done.

"I told you, 9 is in perfect health. I still don't understand why you've classified him as insane when you've hardly known him for two weeks..." said 2 from below. 9 stared at his legs curled around the rope in confusion, though he wasn't really looking at them. Who was 2 talking to?

"Because he is a threat, 2." said 1, sounding almost frantic. "I thought you would react like this... You need to see past the weakness these stitchpunks have. You have to treat them as who they are. And every single one of them needs to understand the rules. You remember what it was like without rules, I assume? We had to hide in any crack or small space we could squeeze ourselves into. It was our survival tactic to follow the leader, and assuming that keeping the majority of the group alive is a good evaluation, I would say I'm made for the job."

"I am not disagreeing with you, 1." 2 said in a calm voice, though it was apparent that he was annoyed and agitated. "But he is not insane, and it is injust to keep him locked up there. Set him free, brother. He needs to learn to follow the rules with other punishments. Maybe you should go find 8 and ask him to keep an optic out for the young one. You know staying up there all day will only cause trouble..."

There was a pause as 1 thought, 9 held his breath, and 6 bit his lip, mismatched optics fixed on the bucket floor, as if he could see through it.

"... You're right. I see your reasoning... Yes, I'll find 8..." 1 seemed to say, a slight hint of defeat and anger in his voice. Once again, the questions 9 had thought of while thinking of 1 came up again. Why was 1 so bent on keeping 9 quarantined and away from the others? Did he know something?

There was a sound of dying footsteps, and a moment later 2 tugged the rope twice, silently indicating the coast was clear. To be sure it was 2, as 9 couldn't see who was still down there, he looked to 6. The artist had stood up and was now nodding down at 9, looking over the edge.

9 got up carefully, letting the rope slip gently and slowly, bringing them both to the ground within a minute. When they got there, 9 smiled at 2, thanking him silently. 2 nodded, offering one back and following 6, the Leader, toward the secret room in which the Balloon had been kept far from 1 and 8.

When they came to the familiar book - the enormous yet subtile entrance to the cave beyond, and the set of staircase behind - 9 stopped, remembering someone.

"5. We can't leave him here. 1 would make 8 torture him if he thought 5 had contributed!" he said in a whisper, looking between 2 and 6. But the two had already continued walking, neither staying behind to help.

"We couldn't possibly leave our mechanic and healer behind, now could we? He's already in the room." 2 said, his voice dying even as 9 stay there to let that sink in.

"Why?" asked 9, jogging a little to catch up. "How come he's already there?"

6 tapped his head and smiled at 9, steering them toward the huge overturned book. The sight of it tugged at 9's memory, and he paused for just a second to recall it. The Balloon room, just bheind that set of stairs, just behind that cave in the wall, just behind that book... He nodded to himself before following 2 and 6 into the dark cave of the book, then into the seperate cave behind the huge book.

The hallway in which the set of stitchpunk-sized stairs was dark and musty, almost uninviting, but 9 followed, more willing than he thought he was to listen and obey 6, his personal leader.

_6, to lead us..._

9 gulped in remembering. It hadn't been that long ago, but here, it was a whole year away... He never tried to unravel Time's mysteries, though he didn't know if it mattered anymore. He wouldn't be going back in time, would he? He silently begged the Creator that he wouldn't have to go through everything again. He didn't want the already spilt-over amount of blood to spill. He couldn't let anything go wrong with these new stitchpunks. They were too important.

He didn't know how he knew that so well. That these two new members were incredibly important. He didn't know how they tied into his humanlike dream, or what exactly they even looked like. 9 did know, however, that 6 wasn't talking to him about A, B, C, D, E, F, G, or H. No, the two he mentioned were in addition to all 9 knew. He hadn't met them yet, but he could feel their importance and meaning.

9 blinked as he began to see the dim light at the end of the staircase, and he held up his hand calmly, the human instinct to protect his sight overtaking him. He was more human than he thought...

"Almost done, my boy?" 2 called gently out into the room as he finished the flight of stairs. 9 followed behind him and 6 and noticed 5, crouched by the engine, squinting and staring down at the small black empty holder with confusion. 5 looked up at 2's words, smiling brightly.

"Almost, 2!" he called back cheerfully, standing and waving at 6 and 9. 9 smiled and waved back, suddenly remembering that he had never gotten to see 5 before 2 had gone missing and eventually murdered by his own hands. This was a chance to see how strong their bond had been. 9 was generally curious, and this seemed amazing to him.

"She'll run, but she wont fly without heat." 5 said, resting his hands on his wide hips, staring down at the engine he had apparently been told to work on. "So far I've tried a candle and a battery. The candle doesn't produce enough heat, and the battery doesnt have enough juice in it."

"Try oil." 9 said, looking over at the pile of scouting materials 5 and 2 had collected without 1's permission. "I remember some in here when we first flew in this Balloon, 5."

5's expression began as one of confusion, but confusion doesn't last forever when the only thing you lack is the spark of memory you hadn't known existed. 5 blinked, and shook his head, staring after 9 as if he was growing ears from the "9" on his back. His look was indiscribable, one of pure shock and complete sudden realization of truth, of an empiphany.

"5, are you alright?" 2 asked with concern, placing a hand on 5's shoulder, which trembled at his touch. 2 looked at 6, who was smiling brightly and watching 5 carefully.

"5... Do you see?" 6 asked softly, taking 5's hand. 5 stared at the floor, his free hand reaching up to rub the side of his head, as if it hurt to think this far into the past... Or rather, near to the future.

"I... I see something..." 5 admitted, blinking before looking back up at 6 and 2. "I've been here before, haven't I?"

2 nodded, offering a gentle smile.

"I remember everything... 9... 9 went back... He went back and... he left 7 and... Oh, Creator..." 5 rubbed his head, looking with difficulty back at 9, who was bringing the first thimble of oil. "9, I remember! I remember everything!"

9 paused, almost tripping over his own feet and sending the oil flying, but stopping himself just in time. He stared for a second before he glanced at 6, who's smile mirrored his.

"You remember?" 9 asked hesitantly, bringing the oil up to the engine and carefully pouring it in.

"Everything... I... It's coming back, at least... Like pulses... But not everything..." 5 closed his optic in concentration. "No, I can't see everything yet... I do remember a bit. I remember you saved us... You gave us another chance."

9 smiled inwardly and nodded, looking up at 5 and keeping his face. "What else do you remember?"

"No time!" 6 cried suddenly, sounding panicked, stressed. "No more time! Fly! Now! Fly, 9!"

9 didn't waste a second, he ran back to get more oil, bringing 5 with him. They could discuss this later. Right now, 6 had told them to move, and everyone now knew that whatever 6 said was to be taken seriously, because chances were it was a matter of life or death.

Some would think it could mean life or death for more than only the stitchpunks...

Why hadn't it rained yet? 

"9! What are you doing, hurry!" 5's voice called him back to the world, making him wonder when he had blanked out. He had just stopped... Why?

Deciding to come back to that thought, 9 propelled forward, pouring more oil into the engine. 6 had already begun to help 2 in, and 5 was already taking out his match. 9 rushed back for more, but was ceased by 6's frantic calling. Right. 9 ran back and jumped into the Balloon, helping calm 6 down.

"What is it, 6? Another vision? What's going on?" 9 said slowly, trying to keep his own voice under control for 6's sake. Questions flew around inside his head, knocking his senses around, but still he focused on 6.

6 was shaking, seemingly in pain, and was clutching his hair, his pen nib fingers entwining in his yarn hair. He did not meet 9's optics.

"W-we have no time... Th-they are waking up now..."

9 hardly had time to feel cold in his face before 5 was crying out, a bright light making 9 cringe and hold his arm in front of his face to protect his not adjusted optics. When the flash of light diminished, 9 slowly let his arm fall to his side, catching he staggering 5 in his arms and gasping.

"5?" 9 said gently, almost panicking. "5, answer me. Are you ok?"

5 merely groaned, turning in 9's arms and trying to stand upright, but staggering and falling back into 9's arms when he did. 9 looked from 6 to 2, a small frown on his face.

"What's wrong? What happened? What was that-" 9 began to ask before feeling the heat of flames next to him. 5 had lit up the oil, and not realizing how much oil there was had lit it on fire to get the heat started in the Balloon without looking away. 9 gasped and looked back down to 5, who was clinging to him and whimpering, his optic shut tight. "5? Can you see anything?"

Out of nowhere, 6 let out a horrible scream, a pained scream that made 9 flinch, a cold chill running up his spine. When 9 looked to the artist, 6 was on the floor, clutching at the ground, sobbing in pain.

"2, take 5. I have to get this thing in the air before 6 does something rash."

2 nodded and helped 9 lay 5 on the Balloon floor, bending over to examine him, performing vision tests on 5. 9 ran to tend to the Balloon.

"How many fingers do I have up, 5?" 2 asked calmly as 9 draped the blanket over the Balloon and tied the corners down, letting the heat be contained and used for listing them up and away to safety. 6 remained in the state he was, whimpering and rocking his body back and forth on the floor of the Balloon.

"How much can you see? What do you see, 5?" 2 continued, taking 5's hand and patting his eyepatch. "Come on 5, you're going to be alright just tell me how much you can see."

9 grunted as he tied the last knot, then looking up into the filling blanket. The Balloon began to swell with heated air, the buoyancy adjusted, and the Balloon shifted to allow it, the Balloon rising off the ground.

"I'm fine, 2." 5 replied weakly, making the once distracted 9 look down at his best friend with worry in his optics. "I can see fine, everything is just blurry."

9 walked to 5, kneeled next to him, taking the other hand that 2 let go of, smiling comfort down to 5. 5 smiled back, and at the same time, the Balloon gave a lurch, beginning to lift fully from the ground.

6 stood, obviously still in pain from his vision but making an effort to help. He staggered over to 5 and 9 and plopped down in front of them, clutching his hands in his hair.

"N-9... S-steer..." he muttered, his voice so quiet, just above a whisper, but loud enough to be heard over the roar of the flames. "We must hurry..."

9 reached out to rub his shoulder comfortingly, nodding. When he saw 6 relax just slightly at the touch, he looked to 5, then to 2, then back to 5. "But 2 isn't strong enough to hold me up. And 5 can't see well right now. What do we do?"

"It's ok, 9." 5 said suddenly, squeezing his hand and sitting up, blinking and trying to focus on looking at 9. "You tell me where to go. I'll stand on your shoulders."

"Ok, then lets go. We don't have time." 9 said hurriedly, helping 5 stand. 5 staggered a bit before leaning on 9 and nodding. "You sure you can do this?"

"9, we dont have time." 5 grunted, clinging to 9 for support. "Is this basket floor flat? Looks lumpy..."

9 chuckled, a nervous worried chuckle that made 5 stop talking about how bad his vision sounded. 5 nodded, climbing up onto 9's shoulders as best he could, looking up and grabbing the steering nail.

"Ok, there's a hole in the ceiling up there, 5, you just have to listen carefully-"

"I know," said 5, "I remember."

9 could only hope 7 would do the same.

((((((((()))))))))

They flew for half an hour, each occupied with the amazing beauty the sun's mid morning had to offer. 6 had gotten up when they had broken through the ceiling, and hadn't moved from his position at the snout of the Balloon, as concentrated on their destination as a cat on it's prey. 9 and 2 marveled at the glorious colors in the sky as 5 stood on 9's shoulders and steered. He claimed his vision had come back, more or less, to the only optic he had left.

9 couldn't help feeling an ease inside, a hope that he honestly believed in. For the first time, he was looking forward to seeing 7 confused and face contorted in minor pain, his words making her see the impossible. In 9's mind, if 5 could remember almost every detail, 7 should remember why 9 had been so significant in her life.

9 did worry the slightest, though. Whenever he was thinking of 7 remembering, 6 wouldn't turn and smile. Infact, he didn't even wince.

"What do you see? Are we close?" asked 5 from above. 9 snapped out of his thoughts and looked ahead, beyond where 6's optics seemed trained, to the now not so far off library.

"I see it!" 9 called up, his voice fighting the roar of the flames that held them in the air. "It's right ahead. A minute away!"

As they flew closer, 5 pushed the nail upward gently, making the Balloon descend, fluttering softly to the ground. He completed a perfect landing, right in front of the main gate to the library. As soon as they touched the ground, 6 was off - out of the Balloon and running toward the library. 9 was also eager, almost tripping 5 by disappearing completely from under his feet.

"Hold on, 9!" 5 laughed, grabbing another lever and rotating it a few times, revealing another mechanism. As 5 turned the level, a small metal cap came over the fire, smothering the flame. As soon as 5 was sure they could leave the Balloon without it bursting into flames, he leapt nimbly off 9's shoulders and onto the Balloon, still rubbing at his optic.

As soon as the weight left 9's shoulders, he was off. He took a running leap off the walls of the Balloon and sprinted into the library, leaving the chuckling 5 and 2 to slowly and steadily climb out of the Balloon.

When 9 walked into the library, he felt the familiar welcoming and relaxing quiet overwhelm him. In every other place in the Emptiness 9 had been in, he could feel nothing but the terror and pain of the last minutes they had been active with humans. But the library had always had a calm feeling. Sad and lonely, but calm.

A familiar, curious flickering noise made 9 smile and peer further into the darkness for the twins. They stayed hidden, and 9 knew why. They didn't know him yet. He tensed, prepared for another cataloging.

"It's ok, you two," he called to the hiding twins, trying to assure them he was a friend. "My name is 9. It may take a while, but you'll remember me."

There was silence for a second, and 9 looked around for any movement. He suddenly remembered that if he had his lightstaff, he may be able to use that for distraction or just light, but he had long ago figured out that he never really needed it.

"Hello?" he called out again into the growing dark. It seemed to be growing around him, and he hugged himself nervously. "6?"

"9." the voice sounded right in his hearing receptors. 9 yelped, falling forward onto his hands and needs, scrambling forward and turning his head toward the source of his terror.

"7?" 9 said stupidly as 7 stared down at him, seeming to scrutinize him, slowly lifting her skullmet from her optics, revealing her face once more to 9's fallen form. 9 sighed longingly before getting a hold of himself and stuttering out a word. "H-hey!"

9 struggled to get up. Emotions flew threw him, like the cold winter wind. It flew through his fabric, chilled him to the bone in a half second, then left him, leaving him cold and tired. he had no idea what it was he was feeling. After feeling a sense of anger, then confusion, then overjoyed, 9 decided he was numb, but still overwhelmed. 7 hadn't said anything but his name yet. He felt he had to make conversation.

"It's good to see you again..." he said uncertainly, watching her.

"9 where have you been?" 7 said sharply, sternly, as if scorning a child, "You just walked out... I was worried. There's machines out there, 9. You can't just go walking around without protection."

"But 7, there aren't any more beasts." 9 said gently, building up for the big truth. He offered a hesitant smile, "Don't you remember? I didn't wake the B.R.A.I.N up. We're free."

7 suddenly gasped, and 9 sighed thankfully, reaching a hand out to be placed on her shoulder to steady her. She would be staggering soon, as she must have been confused and in minor pain.

But she did not stagger. 

She didn't seem confused, only tense, and by the time 9 had noticed this, he was being pushed behind her, and 7 was knocking her skullmet back down and tensing her body, preparing for a fight. She tossed the spear from her right hand to her left, glancing in all directions carefully until her optics landed on something in the darkness, something only she could see.

"Don't move, 9... Don't move" she said protectivly, gripping her spear and glaring at that object concealed in shadows.

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	7. Why Only Two?

**A/N:** So this story has been dead for a long, long time. And before anyone gets excited, I want you to know that it still is. However, I realized I only had 6 chapters posted here, but I distinctly remember having at least 11 before I lost all motivation to continue. I mean, I could possibly continue it still, but I don't remember any of my old ideas. I'd have to read (and spellcheck, because dear god has my writing improved since this story) the whole story and make up a new ending. I think I do remember some details, though. Maybe.

Anyways, I'm going to post what I have, up to chapter 11 I believe, because I owe you at least that. I'm not expecting a ton of reviews or anything, just as a courtesy to those who appreciated this over the years.

I will not change any writing, but I refuse to upload a chapter if it has spelling errors I can easily fix.

Enjoy.

* * *

Weight of the World

Chapter 7: Why Only Two?

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"What do you remember?" 9 asked slowly, carefully, like her thoughts were dust in her mind, and if he said the wrong words, they would dissipate, die, after all his work to bring them to life. His optics were heavy as they stared at her reaction, begging, pleading that what she saw would remind her of him, and that they could finally embrace in knowledge and love.

Everyone else besides the twins (who slept quietly, their heads resting on 5 and 2's lap) watched 7 with intent stares, concerned for her memory as well. The fire hissed and crackled gently, exclaiming it's power to burn them all in defiance, a sound nobody heard correctly. The fire, like a chained goat in a petting zoo, wanted freedom, as any other fire would. It's containment was used for warmth and as a cure for what otherwise would have been dead silence.

"You... You were there." 7 started slowly, letting her optics close and the blanket fall from her shoulders. Her hands flew to her head, and she gasped in the minor pain of her memories flooding to it. "But... You had to go... You had to go to the first room... And you told me to keep the twins under control..."

7 glanced at the twins beside her on either side, 5 smiling down at 4 and 2 patting 3's head gently. 7 smiled and looked up at 9, but when her optics met his, the confused look on her face took over once more. She locked in a stare with him, drawing her memories from his comforting yet... powerful optics. She suddenly felt as though the grey fog he seemed to be trapped in with thicker than the fire's black smoke, but not in color.

"And G..." she said suddenly, her mouth slackening and her optics flowing over his features, taking in the form of his mouth, pressed into a stern line, but not mad, not disappointed, only begging. "I remember G... And F, and C and D."

Slowly, 7 began naming those she remembered. She named all the others, and even began to talk about how they defeated the human beast, talking as if it were yesterday for her, rather than the actual two weeks for 9.

9 wasn't the only one who noticed it, but he was the one who noticed it most. 7 didn't let a single golden word escape from her throat. She said nothing of her and 9's relationship.

By the time she had started to remember as far back as the day after the funeral, still not having said a single gold word, 9 was reduced to heavy breathing, his optics straining to stay open and stare her in the face as his hands wrung in his lap, the blanket covering them but the writhing shapes still seen. And by the time everyone who hadn't already fallen asleep began to nod off (besides 7 and 9), 7 had noticed.

When she stopped at the first time it rained on her 9 and the twins, and asked the same question 9 had when first coming back to this time.

"Wait, why hasn't it been raining?" she asked, looking at 6 for an answer, but looking back to 9 as she found his optics closed and his head in 5's lap, next to 4's head and on 5's other leg. 5 and 2 were obviously barely awake, and the only two who seemed capable of unslurred speech were 7 and 9, who were locked in a stare. 7 gave 9 her confusion, and 9 gave 7 his sudden anger and frustration.

But when the question escaped 7's lips, 9 ceased his anger. He could tell that question was more important than anything he and 7 had ever been through, and he knew it just by hearing her say it. The words stuck in his throat as he tried to repeat the question, and he swallowed instinctively, his fabric throat contracting in worry, but nothing going down into his belly. 9 looked down at his very detailed feet, staring at the small scratches and stains on them and trying to remember where he had gotten each one.

"But you came back, you set things right, why isn't it raining?" 7 said, sitting up straight and leaning in to look at 9's face, coaxing him with her soft words, her soothing voice, to look up and tell her. "You set things right... didn't you?"

To this, 9 had no answer. He had admittedly begun to question it when the cold wind blew in, but not so much as a molecule of water blew with it. Life was gone here still, and that meant he did something wrong. But he had done everything 6 had told him to do... Hadn't he?

"That picture." 9 said, looking up finally to meet 7's curious gaze. "That picture 6 drew..."

"What picture?"

"He drew two more of us... It wasn't any of the others, it was two new stitchpunks... I know it means something... But wait, why two?" 9 lidded his optics in thought and looked to 6, thinking deeply. "I thought we came in groups of eight, with me the extra, why would he draw only two?"

"There could be more coming that he hasn't foreseen yet." 7 reasoned, looking back at 6 as well. There was silence as 9 doubted this in his mind, but refused to meet her optics again for fear she'd drag his senses in. "But what picture do you mean? Do you have it?"

9 made a frustrated sound and stomped his foot gently, the small noise echoing through the Library, yet not waking the others.

"I didn't... I should have... Damn it." he cursed, resting his head in the palms of his hands and closing his optics tight. As he continued to curse under his breath, 7 got up and walked around the fire to him, leaving her blanket behind. We she sat next to him - 9 unmoving, treating her as if she were nonexistent - she placed a hand on his back and rubbed the stained number with her small delicate hands.

"Hey, it's not your fault... You still know what it looked like, right?" she smiled sympathetically. "You know what he meant, you just have to keep looking in your mind. Why would 6 draw two new stitchpunks in this time, when he could have done so any other time? He must have had a recent vision, that was triggered after all of this, when you came back here. He would have told you if he knew what happened next. You went back in time because you messed up along the way, but now... Nothing is predictable. He doesn't know any more than you do until he has a vision."

9 took this thought in, and understood what 7 meant. The entire reason he had even used the talisman to go back into time was to set right the mistake he had made, but now that that had been redone however many times until he had gotten it right, he and 6 were alone on this. Only when 6 was forewarned by whatever source of power he had inside of his soul, did they know what to do to make it rain.

"But what if he doesn't have any more visions?" he asked, sitting up, looking worriedly at 7. "What if there are no more clues? What do we do?"

7 looked down in thought for a minute before looking back up with a small smile. "Then I think you're supposed to do something. I'm not sure what I mean by that when i say it, but it sounds right. You're... mysterious, vague, but you're here, and you've been through so much I can't begin to imagine. There is a darkness behind your optics, 9. And something tells me that you were meant for great things. You will make the sky cry, and you will do whatever you feel is right to do so."

When she was done speaking, leaving 9 trying to understand her cryptic response, she stood, patting 9's shoulder once more before walking back around the fire and laying down, covering herself in the blanket and gently cuddling into 5 and the twins until every stitchpunk was connected in some way.

All except for 9.

"Goodnight, 9." she said gently, her breath dancing in clouds in the freezing midnight air, her face turned away from him and the fire. "Put out the fire when you go to sleep."

9 nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling and roof of the Library, the moonlight shining almost directly on him, but being defied by the firelight.

How could something so big be beaten by something so small, only because it was closer?

Why was there no rain?

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	8. The Same Question

**A/N:** Late, late, late. I was writing this chapter, almost done with it, and then I realized I hated it. So I started over. And here it is, considerably less hated. I only want the best for you guys!

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**Chapter 8: Break (Part 1)**

2D's fever lasted for three days. Sam never showed up again, which lead him to think he was just another hallucination.

And there were a _lot_ of hallucinations.

By the end of his fever, even though he knew most of what he'd seen never happened, he was convinced this whole island was some kind of asylum for personified inanimate objects.

Once, he'd had a conversation with a seagull (named Seagull) and a pelican (named Pelican) whom had claimed they'd seen Murdoc desperately trying to mate with a door knob one night when he was drunk out of his mind. Then they got into an argument about how drunk Murdoc had actually been, and whether or not he was intentionally screwing said doorknob.

Another night (or day, 2D couldn't ever be sure) he'd opened his eyes to see his ceiling was dripping with wet paint. It kept dripping onto his face and bed covers, making a mess of everything. Once it even dripped into his mouth, and it tasted like a sloppy kiss.

It went on like this for what felt like months. He'd open his eyes, see he was outside on the beach, or back at his home town of Crawley, or in Murdoc's bedroom, having a smoke.

Then one day, he opened his eyes and saw that he was in his room, still here on Plastic Beach. Point Nemo, furthest point from any land mass on the globe. Nothing was melting, no pictures or chairs or walls were talking, and best of all, his skin didn't feel like the surface of the sun.

Only, he wasn't so sure he was fully recovered yet. Evidenced of course by Murdoc's sleeping form curled up on his lap.

He was just _there_, sleeping on him. Surely he was still trapped in his endless fever dreams. 2D couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Murdoc sleep, let alone trust someone enough to allow himself to look this _vulnerable_ in front of them.

Murdoc's mouth was slightly ajar. A soft, warm breath blew against 2D's fingers. His hand was right next to Murdoc's face. Knowing this was probably one of the better fever dreams, 2D weakly lifted his index finger and stroked the bassist's jaw.

A flurry of colors invaded his mind (not his vision, he noted with wonder). Reds, purples, greens, blues, yellows, whites, blacks. They flowed around just like they did when 2D listened to music. Except, there was no music. None that he could hear, anyways. The only music was right in front of him. This, whatever it was. A feeling, maybe. A connection.

It was gone too fast.

"Tuss?" Murdoc stirred, and 2D dropped his hand. He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He felt Murdoc gasp and jump away from him. A dull thud as he hit the floor. 2D could hear him panting, as if he just woke up from a nightmare. Or maybe catching himself laying on 2D _was_ the nightmare.

The last of the colors drifted away, leaving 2D feeling hollow.

It was quiet for a few moments, and 2D wondered if Murdoc had left the room. Then, he heard him muttering beside his bed. He strained to hear.

"Stop it," he was saying, "Stop it, _stop_ it..."

_Stop what?_

There was a knock on the door. 2D heard Murdoc take a deep breath, and then walk over to open it.

"Oh, it's you," said Murdoc.

"Who else would it be?" It was a woman. 2D strained to remember the voice, and after a few moments it clicked. Yukimi!

"I don't know," Murdoc mumbled, "The robot, with some medicine."

_He didn't call that thing Noodle_, 2D noticed.

"How is he?" Yukimi asked.

Apparently she didn't wait for his answer, because 2D heard a set of footsteps walking his way. A soft, feminine hand touched his forehead.

"His fever's gone," she stated. "He should wake up any minute now."

2D didn't want to make it obvious that he'd been awake, so he waited a few more minutes before pretending to wake up.

"Yukimi?" he asked. One thing he didn't have to fake was the weakness. He still felt drained of energy, tired to his bones.

"We're here," she said, taking his hand. "You should feel much better now, the fever's gone."

2D felt a bead of cold, sticky sweat run down his forehead when he tried to sit up.

"I know," he said, wiping it away with the back of his hand. His hand came away drenched. "I could use a bath."

"That you could," Yukimi said with a warm smile. "Murdoc will help you."

"What?" 2D and Murdoc glanced at each other. They'd both said that at the same time.

"Surely you don't expect _me_ to do it?" Yukimi asked, glancing between them. The boys fell silent, looking away. "It's settled, then. Murdoc, remember, the water shouldn't be too hot."

With that, Yukimi got up and headed for the door. Murdoc stopped her along the way.

"You're not serious?" he growled.

"You want his voice?" she responded casually, "Then you take care of his body, as well. And everything else that goes with it."

She brushed past him and out the door, leaving 2D alone with a fuming Murdoc. _Thanks, Yukimi._

The two stared at each other for about a minute, neither able to look away. Finally, Murdoc let out a huge, exasperated sigh and strode over to 2D's beside.

"Let's not make this any more awkward than it needs to be," he growled, ripping the covers off the singer's body and plugging his nose. "Gah! You really _do_ need a bath."

2D winced at his disgusted tone and remained silent, allowing Murdoc to help him off the bed and into an upright position. Everything hurt, but he tried valiantly not to let that show. When he was finally standing, Murdoc let go of him and gave him a disgusted shove. 2D let out a weak cry and fell over, his arms saving his face from slamming against the floor.

Once he recovered, he glared up at Murdoc.

"What?" he asked innocently, wearing an amused smirk.

2D picked himself up and, strength somewhat renewed, walked over to the door.

"Where's the bathroom?" he asked.

"I'll show you," Murdoc said.

"Just tell me," 2D snapped coldly. Murdoc turned to him in surprise.

"Why?" he growled, "I'm taking you there right now."

"I don't need you to kick me there," 2D stated, "I can walk just fine on my own."

Murdoc rolled his eyes and grabbed 2D's arm harshly.

"Stop taking everything so seriously," he said as he dragged 2D down the hall, "You weren't such a drama queen before. Did you get fucked in the arse or something since I've last seen you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" 2D barked, his anger rising.

"So you _did_?" Murdoc sneered in amusement. "Tell me, who was it? Who took your anal V-card?"

"Nobody!" 2D nearly shouted, "I haven't done any of that! Let me go, you're hurting me!"

"Don't lie to me," Murdoc laughed. "I bet you're gayer than Richard Simmons."

"He 'ent even gay!" 2D cried. "And I'm not either!"

They made it to the bathroom, and Murdoc shoved the door open. 2D half-expected to see Sam the toilet and a rusty mirror, but he was pleasantly surprised to see nothing of the sort. The walls were white (not off-white, but actually white), and the tiles were clean and polished. The sink was big enough to bathe a small child, and the bath was big enough for at least five people.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Murdoc smiled.

"Not at all," 2D closed his gaping mouth and threw on a pout. "_Now_ will you let go of me arm?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Murdoc, "Now I have to help you bathe."

There was something wicked in that sentence. Something that made electricity spark along 2D's spine. Something that made him crave _more_.

Something dangerous.

"Y-you don't have to do that," 2D whimpered, "I can do it alone. I'm not that weak-"

Murdoc shoved 2D without warning again, and the singer fell over. Just before he could crack his skull on the side of the sink, Murdoc caught him and gathered him into his arms. His eyebrow was raised, questioning 2D's previous statement.

"W-well that was jus' 'cos you pushed me over!" he cried in defense. Murdoc stood him upright and began to fill the tub with warm water.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked.

"You," 2D answered before he could think about it. Murdoc paused, but after a second just continued, pretending he wasn't bothered. "I-I only meant-"

"Just take your clothes off," he said, sounding tired.

Not wanting to set him off, 2D did as he was told. He peeled his sticky shirt and pants off of him. Just when he was about to pull off his briefs, Murdoc stopped him.

"Oi, there's no need for that!" he exclaimed, holding up his hand to shield his eyes. 2D quickly yanked them back on, his cheeks burning. He should have known those would stay on. He was so _stupid_.

"S-sorry," he mumbled. He covered his chest with his arms, a cold draft making his damp body shiver.

Murdoc cautiously lowered his hand and glanced over to 2D. His mouth opened the tiniest bit and he sucked in a breath. As his eyes roamed the singer's body, 2D felt mortified, and tried to shrink back against the door.

Murdoc walked over to him. The roar of the hot water being pumped into the bath served to quench the silence, though for all that was going on in 2D's mind, it didn't need to be there.

When Murdoc reached him, he gently pulled 2D's arms away. 2D hardly dared to breathe. Was this all a dream? Did Murdoc know what he was doing to him right now?

Fingernails grazed against his ribcage, trailed down to his hips.

"After your bath," Murdoc spoke quietly, suddenly sounding... _tender_. "We'll get you something to eat. Whatever you want, okay?"

2D swallowed and slowly turned to look up at him. He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.

When the bath was full, Murdoc helped ease 2D into the water. It burned at first, but it was a good kind of burn. The heat shot deep into his muscles and numbed the pain. When he was lowered all the way in, the water coming up to his chest, he let out an involuntary moan of delight.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" cried Murdoc, grabbing his shoulders roughly and stumbling into the bath. 2D snapped to attention. Apparently, his muscles had given out at the intense relaxation and he was about to float to the far side of the tub. It really was more like a small pool, after all.

"You're wet," 2D stated, staring pointedly at Murdoc's soaked jeans.

"Your powers of observation remain impeccable," Murdoc said sardonically. 2D's mind couldn't process all the big words in that statement, though he knew he was being insulted, so he just hung his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Murdoc sighed and began to strip. 2D stared up at him, blinking dumbly.

"Er, Murdoc?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm already wet," he explained, "Might as well get in with you."

"But-"

"We're both guys, right?" Murdoc said quickly, "It's no big deal. Unless of course you _are_ gay."

"I am not!" 2D frowned.

"Then what's the problem?"

2D swallowed, looked down at his feet through the water and shrugged. Murdoc pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it clear across the bathroom.

_Ziiiiiiip._

2D closed his eyes and sunk a bit into the water, leaning over and blocking himself with his hands.

This was going to be a long bath.

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**A/N:** Murdoc's just a tad bipolar, I think. Either that or he's desperately trying (and failing) to hide something. Will he break under the pressure? Find out next chapter. D


	9. The Ride

Weight of the World

Chapter 9: The Ride

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"9! 9? He's waking up!"

Feeling and sensation came back all at once. After that sound, 9's senses were unlocked. He could feel the cold dry wind rushing past his burlap, tickling him. His optics fluttered open and he took in the brownish light that streamed into his sight. He turned his head and looked to his side, noticing 5 by his side, resting a hand on his shoulder, and 7 holding his hand.

9 looked from his and 7's entwined hands with confusion and joy, but he remembered to not get his hopes up, and what 2 had told him earlier. He looked up at 7's face with the same expression, trying not to crack a smile. 7 stared at him for a second before realizing the awkwardness of the situation, pulling her hand away and looking down. She smiled nervously, and 9 wondered, begged to know what she was thinking. Before he could say anything to her, 6 spoke.

"No, no. Almost here, please! Please remember!" he muttered under his breath, running his sharp fingers through his tough yarn hair. 9 sat up, wobbling a bit, to look at 6, who sat at the head of his bed, curled into a tight ball of fear and stress.

9 frowned and rested a hand on 6's shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his hearing receptor.

"I'll fix it. I know it's heavy. I'll fix it."

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A few minutes later, 5 called out to the others and told them the Art Museum was in sight and that they would arrive in half an hour. Everyone perked up before continuing their conversations or solitary relaxations. 9 sat alone, near 6 at the front end of the Balloon, and 6 stood over the front, humming happily and laughing ecstatically as the wind rushed past his face, and 2 and 5 were engaged in conversation too deep for anyone but them to understand. 7 and the twins were cuddled in a heap at the opposite end of the Balloon, as 9 had made sure. He wanted to go over and talk to her, but he had remembered what 2 had told him - to give 7 her space and not follow her like a dog.

9 kept his gaze to the floor, trying desperately not to stare at 7 on the opposite end of the Balloon. He fumbled with his zipper pull, allowing himself an occasional side-glance in her direction, discreetly taking in her features. She sat cross-legged, leaning her back against the side of the Balloon, her arms wrapped around the twin's small bodies and holding them close, but her face seemed preoccupied. She seemed to be thinking about something, her furrowed eyebrows seeming to question something.

9 tilted his head slightly as he watched her, his gaze gently touching her, caressing what no longer was his. Had she remembered how significant he was to her, and how beautiful he thought she was, he would be asking her what she was thinking about, holding her in his arms and kissing her shoulder softly. 9 could see it so easily, see how he would treat her, as if she was even more beautiful than the moon that gave them just enough light to see by in the night, the moon that used to pull the tides of water back and forth on the shores of land.

9 suddenly sighed deeply and loudly, letting all of his feelings out and trying to keep his calm, longing composure up. Everyone took their turn with a worried glance at 9, but he didn't meet their gaze, so most of them looked back at what they were doing.

7 continued to stare at him, but not with a questioning look as to why he had sighed so powerfully, more like a question as to who he was.

Who he was? Who was he? Was he not the only one trying to figure it out?

The Balloon began to descend, 5 not having to reach as high because of his new design, and with it, everyone's curiosity began to ascend. 9 and 7 stood at the same time, walking over to where 6 was and peering down below to the Art Museum.

9 looked over at 6, watching his face carefully. His expression was surprising, not one he usually wore. 6's eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth was blank, no happiness to see F again, nothing but determination, like a war general, like 1. 9 could tell there was something more than themselves going on, more than his problems with 7 right now, or his excitement to see the other family again, there was something more in 6's optics that showed their insignificance, yet extreme importance.

And that something was weighing 6 down.

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"I'll stay behind," 9 said to 7 when the Balloon touched the ground. "Take them, tell them what you remember, they'll let you in."

7 nodded and jumped out of the Balloon, making sure 5 and 6 were following. 9 noticed the way she looked about, how her years in the Emptiness still kept her on guard, even though there was nothing else out there. He stared after her, wondering suddenly why it was that the only thing she couldn't remember was him. Why did this seem so ironic to him? Hadn't 6 told him that she would remember? Hadn't she herself told him the same thing?

"You'll get her back someday, 9." 2 said from behind him. 9 didn't turn, didn't even jump, he merely let his false smile droop back down to a sad frown, his shoulders slumping. He felt a cold hand on his shoulder, but despite the weather and what cold did to metal, 2's hand also felt warm, healing, trusting. The corner of 9's mouth twitched as he took this feeling in, letting it wind him up like a toy so he could move on. "I promise."

9 finally turned and showed his pathetically small smile to 2, nodding slightly. "I believe you, I just..." 9 paused, looking down at his feet in thought, holding back the pained sobs he felt rising to his chest. "I don't want to wait that long..."

2 closes his optics, his hand still gently rubbing 9's shoulder. 2's expression was amazing to 9, it seemed like 2 was trying to focus on 9's pain and take it away, like he didn't want anyone but himself to feel everyone's pain. 9 didn't want to be greedy, but he found himself feeling better in a few seconds. He was astounded.

"How did you do that?" he asked 2, who's optics opened in surprise. "You made me feel better."

"I didn't do anything in particular..." said 2, beginning to walk to the side of the Balloon. "Sometimes all it takes is just some hope and well wishes for those you care about to help them."

2 seemed to let 9 think about this statement for a second before smiling once more. "Come now, I may look young and agile, but I wasn't born last you know." he chuckled, gesturing for 9 to come and help him down. 9 felt his cheeks pull upwards into a smile, and he wondered how 2 could make anyone going through this kind of pain smile at a time when he would think his lover wasn't in love with him.

9 helped 2 down, marveling at his brilliance the whole way to the Art Museum.

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Even before they reached the door, 9 and 2 could hear a heated argument going on at the front entrance. The main two voices 9 could hear were 7 and G. 7 was yelling, and G was whispering loudly, as if afraid to be heard. 9 groaned impatiently and walked a bit faster toward the entrance.

When he rounded the corner, he didn't know what his optics caught first. 7 was going at it with G, though not physically, which was causing 5 to try and calm down the scared twins. 6 was staring straight at 9 when he rounded the corner, as if waiting. He only needed to point to 7 and G to get his point across to 9.

9 nodded and walked forward. "Alright, alright, break it up!" he shouted over their noise, once again surprised by how loud he could be when determined. 7 turned to him, looking very angry, and both stopped bickering, staring at him bitterly. "What's the problem?"

"The problem?!" G whispered roughly, throwing his arms dramatically into the air. "The problem is that you guys need to learn how to survive in this wasteland! There are rules you need to follow to ensure your survival! There are creatures out there that are not like us, that want to kill us. You bunch can't just show up here and start attracting attention. We'd be happy to help you, if you would only listen!"

9 looked from G to 7, who recognized it was her turn to speak and said her own bit. "The only problem is that he doesn't know what's going on, 9. Only you can convince him, remember?" she said calmly, having cooled down now that she understood what G was whispering at her for.

9 took a deep breath and looked around at everyone. 2 was now behind him, obviously confused at the tension level around him. 9 spoke calmly, quietly, to everyone.

"We all need to calm down. We won't solve anything by fighting or arguing like this." 9 looked to G then, walking a bit more forward. "Your name is G, and the rest of your family is named by the letters of the human English alphabet." G stared hard at 9, his optics seeming to ask the same question that 7 had asked with her own in the Balloon. The resemblance between the two families was still there. "I know who you are - most of us do. We're friends, and we don't come to harm you. My name is 9, and this is 7, 6, 5, the twins 3 and 4, and 2. Something is going on, we weren't put on this planet to survive, I was, but you aren't. You and your family, and mine, are meant to save this world, give life back to it, we're the second chance this planet deserves. Can I tell you more inside?"

G took a moment to take all this in, staring at 9 with the same look as before, and in exactly five whole seconds, he made his decision. With a swift turn of his body, his cape flying behind him and brushing against 9, G murmured his reply.

"Follow me."

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Meanwhile, back at the Cathedral, 1 had indeed found out that he and 8 were the only one's still hiding away, and therefore had assumed that only him and 8 were alive.

"You see what happens, 8, when one disobeys my orders?" 1 said smugly to himself, sitting upon his high throne and looking out onto his empty throneroom. 8 made a confused noise, then turned to 1.

"You can disobey your own orders, sir?"

"No, you fool! I meant look what happened to those who did." 1 replied, casting a hand out toward the empty throneroom. 8 looked, but saw nothing. He saw no sense in what 1 was telling him.

"But... There's nobody here." he said, looking back at 1. The elder took a deep breath and collected himself, then pointing to the calendar strip he had marked with a burnt out match. Every one of the numbers was marked off now, save for his own and 8's.

"That is where they are. They're gone, 8. And if they had listened to me and had stayed in this safe heaven, they would not be dead. Do you understand?"

"Yessir..." 8 said, though he still sounded like he had something on his mind. 1 had nothing better to do than question him.

"Well?"

"It's just... Sir..."

"Yes?"

"I was wondering..."

"Spit it out, you choking barbarian."

"Well, if they really did die... Then who stole the pretty Balloon?"

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	10. Live Then Die

Weight of the World

Chapter 10: Live Then Die

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G lead the group into the hallway, not even bothering to turn and talk. He kept his head ahead, grabbing a burning torch in mid-step, and holding it high above him to illuminate the whole hallway. The others fell behind in silence, 6 hugging 9's arm and whining, as if in pain. 9 knew they had to get to F as fast as possible.

"We're coming to a small box of matches," G said, still not looking back. "Grab one and I'll light it for you. Take only a few, we're running low..."

9 craned his neck to see if he could spot the matchbox while 6 mumbled something about light. The twins were holding onto 7, their heads never seeming to stop turning in every direction, their optics flashing occasionally, much to the annoyance of G, who's shoulders seemed to tense a bit at each. 7 noticed, and had told them to stop for a while. 5 and 2 were not far behind, 2 seeming to keep the pace well.

When they reached the box, G turned and made sure everyone was looking at him before reaching inside and grabbing a match, handing it to 9. 9 held it out to G, who gave him some fire and continued walking, his cape spinning once more. 9's optics followed after him a bit more before looking down to the match box and taking two more matches out. He gave one to 7 and the other to 5, transferred some fire to each, and smiled reassuringly before following after G, holding tight to 6. 5 and 7 exchanged glances before continuing as well.

They walked for another minute, and then came to a halt at a massive black wall. It seemed out of place, mainly because it was pictureless. Of all the hallways they had walked down and all the small rooms they had crossed, each wall had been decorated with what 9 was sure at one point was beautiful wallpaper and at least one painting. This wall, however, was black and dull, no decorations on it whatsoever. However, 9 not only trusted G knew where he was in his own home, but he also recognized this as one of the entrances to the secret tunnels meant for stitchpunk use only. 9 watched as G felt along the wall for the tunnel, his head down and seeming to be thinking about something distant, a subject far from where he was or what he was doing.

All of a sudden, G's hand seemed to disappear, and he stopped walking, looking up toward the wall. He felt around a bit more, feeling out how big the entrance was, and finding a small opening in the hallway that blended in, just big enough for the stitchpunks to walk through. He placed two metal fingers on the flame, capping it and putting it out, then stepping through the small hallway and vanishing, his attire and cape blending in with the already hidden hallway.

"Why did he put the light out?" 5 asked from behind 9, the Art Museum echoing the nervousness in his voice.

"He wants our optics to adjust." 9 said after a moment of thought, then looking down at 6, who was hardly walking right anymore. 9 straightened 6 up, holding onto him tightly and rubbing his head gently in concern. He reached his hand up toward the flames he held in his other, grabbing the fire as if he could take it in his hand, but instead meaning to engulf it. There was less light in the room, and 9 noticed G had subtly told them to feel the entrance out first so they wouldn't get lost in the dark. Of course, he had said this without saying anything, but 9 had been decoding 6 long enough to understand subtle hints. He walked toward the wall where G had gone and felt along it. When he felt the entrance, he stepped through. "Put out the light when you walk inside. It's right here, don't get lost in the dark."

9 heard them murmur their replies, and he stepped through, hugging 6 close to his belly in attempts to both soothe him and make to help him walk straight. Worry leaked from his voice as he spoke.

"6, how much do you know about this? 7 told me you might not know as much as you did when I was mending my mistake, and she makes sense." Then, after a moment of awkward silence, in which 9 started to question if 6 was really listening to him, he said: "What's so heavy? What is it we need to do?"

6's hardly audible mumble made 9 pause, not able to see in the dark but still looking for details on 6's face. He could see absolutely nothing, but it was almost as if he could feel 6's pained expression. 9 was worried, terribly, but he knew they were almost there, and he could only comfort 6 until F helped him. Hopefully 6's long time lover could instruct 9 in a little more detail, though he wasn't sure she would help much now.

F could definitely explain things better than 6, albeit still loosely and with much patience, but 7 was right about 6 not knowing more than what his visions' brought him already, so why would she be wrong about F? Maybe 9 really was alone in this... Did he have more than one purpose?

Where was the rain?

He stumbled on his way, almost holding 6 up now, trying desperately not to drag his friend and hold his dignity high. It had taken 6 a long time to earn that respect, and 9 wouldn't make 6 seem lazy and tired by dragging him into the secret room. He muttered words of courage and strength to 6, seeing the end of the narrow tunnel now and pressing 6 on. He could hear rustling behind him, and knew the others were close enough to hear his words, and possibly the touch of worry bleeding in them. Hopefully worry wasn't as contagious as 9 knew it to be.

They emerged into the light suddenly, and 9 was basically holding 6 upright, struggling a bit but definitely capable of holding his weight. 6 wasn't exactly the biggest of them all. As soon as G turned from a conversation with A, seeing 9 struggle with 6, he abandoned his words and rushed to help 9 take 6 to their infirmary. 9 had kept his gaze to the floor, trying to concentrate on 6, but now that half 6's weight was lifted from him, he could lift his own head enough to see the huge desk at the far end of the room.

As he vaguely remembered, the desk held everyone's living space, the infirmary, and much of their materials. It was very old, wooden, and carved quite beautifully. 9 hadn't remembered the intricate carvings crawling up the four legs of the desk, but then, when he had last seen it, it had been covered with a huge cloth, keeping themselves hidden from anything that could peek in the windows. But now, the desk was bare and open, enough to see four candles burning proudly, the thick scent it must have once had gone, but the flame still licking gently at the wick. Everyone's rooms were open to each other, no longer covered with the dusty veil of cloth to give them privacy. 9 wondered as he walked nearer.

He spotted F waiting in her corner, her optics gazing hard at 6, her expression unreadable. She trembled, as if hurting, but she seemed to be used to ignoring it, not caring for her own pains as she watched her lover being lead to a soft bed. As soon as he was laid on the bed, he curled into a ball, the pain seeming to originate from his stomach and chest. F stood, hesitantly but desperately staring at 6 from over 9 and G's shoulders, before hurrying over herself.

G looked up at 9 expectantly.

"I'll explain in a minute, although I'm not sure even I understand." he said solemnly, taking 6's clenched fist for a second, cracking the slightest of smiles when 6 opened his fingers and gripped back. 6's will to fight the pain gave 9 a sense of comfort, that he was not alone.

Reluctantly, he let 6's hand go, and made sure F grabbed it before turning, giving a meaningful glance to G. He walked toward the tunnel they had come through, and waited for the others to come through. G resumed talking to A, and 9 could hear his name and the other's being said in low whispers. His back turned to the proclaimed leader, 9 tried to make out words they said, without showing he was listening. 9 could feel H's optics on him, staring at the number etched into his back, and he could almost feel him wondering who he was and what he had to tell.

Just when 9 was about to turn, a flash of burlap escaped the tunnel, and 9 saw 5's arm first, then his head poke out, his other arm seeming to be occupied. He flashed a nervous smile to H, then helping 2 out the rest of the way. 5 let go of 2's hand, because now they could see better, and he walked over to 9, who still hadn't turned from the tunnel. 5 stood beside him, his own back to the leaders, and a bit nervously, he looked to 9.

"I heard you talking to 6, is he alright?"

"We'll find out." 9 said, sounding grim despite knowing somehow that yes, 6 would be alright.

5 gulped, making a small sound, and looked back to the tunnel.

7 stepped in not too long after, her white fabric shining even in the dim yellow candlelight, holding the twins on either side of her and keeping them close as she locked optics with A. The new stitchpunk had almost the same effect on 7 like a cat with it's hackles raised, her head bowing slightly to study him, yet show a possibly false respect. Not even 9 could tell what she was feeling.

"Alright, we're all here." 9 said, catching everyone's attention. "Save for 1 and 8, but we'll explain that later." A's optics narrowed suspiciously, and 9 ignored it, looking to H and G until the look passed. "My name is 9, as you can see by the number on my back. And..." he paused, thinking of a way to explain the unexplainable. "I need to remind you all - your whole family, save for maybe F, but she'd better listen too - of something that... Something that hasn't happened yet." Silence, blank stares. 9 held his breath before continuing. "I know it sounds crazy, but you need to hear this, not just for our sakes, or even just yours, I believe the importance of this truth, that you all know what happened, is for the sake of life itself."

9 and 7 glanced at each other, exchanging their worried glances, speaking to each other with their optics silently, as if to say:_ What if they don't believe us?_

When they broke the stare, they looked to A, the obvious self-proclaimed leader of this group, similar to 1 but... not quite. There was something different about him, and 9 was beginning to think that something was different between them all, as if even though they had their parallels, they were still unique, still significant in their own way.

The silence began to hang, dangle 9 over a cliff of hope, and if he fell... 9 shuddered, not wanting to answer the question both he and 7 had asked each other in their glance.

A had been burning a hole in 9's face the whole time, that whole silence, and 9 suddenly wanted to say something, or at least make a noise, to cut through the silence like a knife. But suddenly, A broke the stare and nodded ever so slightly to 9, as if giving him permission, a wave of his hand asking them to follow him.

9 tried to hide the breath of relief he let out, fearing it would send the other stitchpunks false reason to be suspicious. H nodded his head for 7 and the rest to follow, and after they were all walking back to the huge bare desk, he himself followed. 7 walked beside 9, the twins no longer scared and shy but more eager to explore, flashing at H carefully, smiling innocently and beginning to catalog him soon without fear. When she thought H was paying more curious attention to the twins who poked and prodded, she bent close to 9's hearing receptor, which made a shiver of electricity run through him. She spoke in a low careful voice.

"I remember the last time I came here, the desk was covered in cloth, why is it bare?"

The electricity slowly faded as her secret that wasn't a secret was absorbed into him, and he replied thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure, but we arrived here earlier than we had last time, so maybe they hadn't thought of it yet." That was his best guess, though he knew his guess was as good as anyone's, and he only answered her to answer her, but he also felt a tug at his head, a tug that seemed to conclude his guess.

They walked inside and gathered in a semi-circle around a green dictionary, which A lead 9 to by tugging on his arm as if he were a small boy caught stealing. F didn't look up from 6, she either seemed to know most of what he would say or she was too engulfed in worry for her lover to lift her head to someone else. 9 stumbled up on the thick green book, being virtually tossed up there by A, who seemed annoying at his very presence, and seemed a lot more strong for his age.

After all, he was the oldest of them all, wasn't he?

9 cleared his throat nervously, then looking down at those who asked questions with their optics, who judged him silently, who scrutinized him, yet who also wanted to befriend him and work with him. They wanted answers.

"I came back here to remind each of you of who you were. I have a story to tell, though it isn't much of a story as it is a future, a truth. And you have to understand, it'll seem false at times, and it'll seem as if I'm here to fool you, but that's the last thing I want to do." 9 took a moment to give them a desperate look, asking them to trust him. He noticed that C, D, B, and E were not present, and he wondered where they were, but he didn't bring it up just yet. "Two weeks ago, I was in the Library, miles from here, celebrating a victory that I felt I didn't deserve. I had saved everyone from my family, and from yours as well. I knew you, two weeks ago, somewhere in this time that you've never been." Confused glances filled the room, only F and 6 didn't seem intrigued or in disbelief. "Days before even that, I had battled a horrible beast, a monster made from the bones of a human. You all helped fight it, and several of your souls were taken from your bodies. You weren't dead, but you were lost. It didn't matter because I still had a chance to come back to you, when you weren't lost. I came back to now."

There was an awkward silence. 9 knew he was buzzing in their minds, each of their questions coming back to him. He felt like they would understand now, that they should, and somehow, by some chance, or by some fate, one did.

"I remember." a soft mutter made 9's head snap to G. His head was lowered, his hood still up, hiding everything but a soft smile on his face. It was small, uncertain, afraid that he was wrong somehow. But it was a smile nonetheless, and 9 smiled back.

"What?" A said suddenly, walking over to G, H watching closely. "You believe this fool? He comes to us when we are confused and nervous, and he tells us stories that are highly impossible, with little detail besides knowing out names - which, may I remind you, is marked on your back! - and you say you remember?! I've been wrong in the past about you, G, I know that. But you must listen to me now, this stranger does not hold the answers." A turned to face 9, G looking up at him as well, more of a lost look now that A was talking so confidently. "For all we know he could be a machine himself! A work of the Mechanical Sphere himself... Spewing lies from his mouth like blood from a stabbed human! H, I want you to escort him out, and take his little devil friends with him. You cannot bring anything foreign against those who see the lies in your mouth."

9 wanted to protest, with words, his own frustration hard to keep away from his mouth, but before he could gather anything unthreatening, 7 had made her move. She stood, gripping her spear and getting in front of 9 before H even stepped forward. She was a true warrior then, one hand gripping her spear, holding it closer to the blade than she ever did, the back end of it gracefully tucked behind her body, blocking 9 from doing something stupid, as in moving from her protection. She was half-crouched, her skullmet down, a dangerous look in her wild optics. Her knees were bent, not locked, never locked, to allow her the momentum she would need if she had to take action. Her optics darted from A to H, making sure no one touched 9. She still had questions for him...

5 was silent, keeping his gaze downward, desperate to hold it there, and 2 kept a hand on his shoulder, staring directly at 7 with extreme disapproval. The twins, understanding the haze of violence suddenly in the room, had drawn into the shadows, clutching themselves desperately and hiding their faces in each other's shoulders. 9 saw all this, and decided to act, say something, touch her shoulder, anything to get her to calm down. The last thing - _the last thing_ - he needed was a fight. But again, he was interrupted when a new voice suddenly floated in the air.

_"Enough."_

Everyone's head's snapped to 6's bed, and seeing 6 still curled in a tight ball of pain and possible visions of horror or the future, they all looked to F. her shoulders were raised, as if she were an angered cat, and her arms were spread on the bed, far apart enough to see each hand gripping the soft sheets with all her strength. No one moved, all were too entranced by F.

She turned, suddenly, without warning, and without pity at those who it scared. Her face was one of anger, one of pure hate, yet also one of sadness, and reasoning. She was desperate, yet she was in control. She looked straight at 7, and 7 looked back, her skullmet still down. F walked over to her, slowly, her hands fallen gently at her sides, swaying with a new ease. 7 didn't move, captivated by confusion. F walked to her, smiled kindly at her, took her left hand and placed it on the blade of her spear, gently pushing downward. 7 obeyed, seeming to see something in the stare that no one else saw. F lifted her other hand to brush the birdskull from her face, revealing 7's confused and fear-filled stare. She straightened, nodding, her lips in a straight line, but she looked down in shame. 9 could tell how she wanted to run, how she always ran, but he placed a hand on her shoulder, telling her, begging her to stay.

"No time, no violence. No hate, no greed, no loss." F said, a pleading look in her optics as she stared at them. "Love, unite, befriend. Cherish, live, then... _die_..."

As she said the last word, she lifted her head and looked toward the ceiling. 9 followed her stare but the only thing he spotted was the wood of the desk, the hollow belly, the mechanism of it's drawers. He looked back down at her, but she had walked back to 6, and was now cradling him in her lap, stroking his hair, and singing a song no one in the room had ever heard of.

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1 blinked, a blank stare on his face, the only indication he was confused and frustrated beyond belief was his slightly raised eyebrow as he looked down at 8, who seemed nervous.

"The... Pretty... Balloon..." 1 said each word with complete annoyance, yet he had been around long enough to learn to hide certain things from escaping him. Deep (_deep_) inside, he was curious, and slightly suspicious. What did 8 know that he hadn't told him?

"Yep, 6 showed me once, and he said that it could fly, and take people with it. I didn't know what he was gettin' at, sir, not at first, but when I went to look at it today..."

"It was gone." 1 muttered angrily, putting the pieces together. "That fool took it, and the others with him..."

8 looked down in thought, pretending to think about it as 1 was, but thinking about something else entirely. He hadn't played with his magnet in days... The urge to do so was making him itch for a moment of privacy.

"But where would he go..." 1 continued to wonder out loud, his hand stroking his chin in thought, as if a small beard was there. Though if 1 had the ability to grow a beard, no doubt he would never let it grow a spec from his skin. "If he was that desperate to leave... Why?"

Suddenly, a look of knowing crossed his face, and his optics widened in complete terror. If you had blinked, you would have missed it, his face changing to one of authority in not half a second. He turned to 8, who had resumed sharpening his blade, taking extra care at the edges, seeming very careful to make sure the blade was kept well.

"8, we can't stay here. 9 has taken the others and brainwashed them." 1 spoke with determination, still captured in his thoughts, looking down at the ground now with a fierce thinking expression.

"He washed their brains, sir?"

"No, no, he merely placed bad thoughts in their heads, made them think bad things, he's controlling them." 1 said absently, too struck with his sudden realization to be annoyed with 8 at the moment.

"How'd he do that?"

"He's lied to them, 8. He's told them things about me, or you, bad things that aren't true. He want's to be the leader, he wants to replace me... We must keep the others safe. He doesn't know how to keep everyone safe..."

8 gasped, suddenly angry at 9. Why would he do such a thing? Was he really trying to take over 1's position? Would he hurt the others if they tried to resist him?

"Where is he, do ya think?" 8 said, standing to attention like a soldier, both hands on his blade, his expression lethal. He wouldn't stand for his friends being hurt. "Where is he?"

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	11. Across The Hallway

Weight of the World

Chapter 11: Across The Hallway

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9 stared at F and 6, thinking deep thoughts and wondering what was going to happen that was so important that it made 6 weak enough to be immobile. And what was making F so desperate for peace among them.

"That's that." said A's voice, strong against everyone's confusion. Everyone looked up from their thoughts to A, who was just collecting himself. "I've never fully understood F and her way of speech, but I do agree with her... We must first try to understand 9 before we can act."

9 was stunned, he hadn't expected A to give in this quickly and allow him to explain further. He thought it would be much harder - especially since 1 was his parallel. He stared in shock at A for a second, speechless, but soon his words came back to him, and his sense of urgency and desperation came back to him. He needed to help 6.

"As I was saying..." 9 began, making sure everyone was listening. "The lives you think you've been living are... well they're more like replicas. You've been through something before..." he struggled with words, looking for the appropriate way to tell these people that all they've known is false, and that they have to listen to him, without it sounding like he was trying to trick them into something.

"How is that possible?" E's voice suddenly spoke, breaking the silence 9 didn't know he had left open. Only 5 and the twins glanced up at him, everyone else seemed to have sensed him coming in. E shrank back slightly, obviously shying at the attention he didn't want.

5 held his head down and clutched at it, trying to rid the headache he was no doubt experiencing from remembering E. His twin, almost. He remembered first seeing him, thinking he was looking into a mirror... E was so close to 5, that he even looked exactly like him, save for the eye patch and a few scratches. He was made of burlap, and he had buttons holding his opening seam together, and though the burlap was of a slightly darker color, he still had seams in the same places. Yet no one is ever exactly the same, and E did have more differences than cold be seen from 5.

9 spoke urgently.

"I know it sounds impossible, but trust me, I've been through too much to give up now. I need you all to believe me. I can give you proof if that's what you really want-"

"That, 9," said A, lifting his chin just the slightest bit, making him seem far more superior and intelligent than anyone else in the room with that slight movement. "Is exactly what we want."

9 smiled, nodding. "Where's C and D?" he said, ready to prove himself. "I know they're here. And since I haven't seen them since I've come in here, how could I possibly know they exist without having known them before?"

A raised an eyebrow, smiling as if 9 had just told him that 2 and 2 made 4 like it was the biggest secret in the world.

"9, like your family, we are named after an order of sorts. It doesn't take an intelligent man to figure out that since there are eight of us, and me, E, G, and H are present, that there would be a C and D, or B. You'll have to come up with more proof than that, boy."

7 couldn't help but smile at 9's foolishness either, but her smile was more amused than teasing, like there was a joke no one but her understood. She kept her gaze to the floor. 9's body went hot, but he tried his best to ignore it.

"Ok, that wasn't smart." 9 admitted, smiling a little. A's face didn't tense as he thought it would, didn't turn into a scowl and urge him on. A seemed, if anything, amused at the boy. "The only way I can prove it to you is if you believe me. I'm going to tell you each something of your pa- your future. And you're either going to remember, like 5, or not, like-"

9 stopped himself just in time to mention 7's name. He wanted to ask her about it, but something held him back. No one but 7 seemed to notice he didn't finish that sentence.

"Proceed." A said fearlessly. When had he ever seemed so more valiant, so much more like a rightful leader or king than 1? Then 9 remembered.

"A, in the future, you had sacrificed yourself to kill a monster that likely would have killed us all had you not weakened it. You were separated from your body, and we couldn't find you." 9 remembered feeling a true sense of bravery at A's last action, and the very thought of someone who was like 1 in many ways doing something such as that had given him some strength.

A took this in with curiosity at first, seeming like we was trying to remember something, his old worn eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Then, something seemed to hit, and his optics widened. He stumbled backward, a nervous H catching him and holding him steady as A clutched at his head, whispering to himself something 9 couldn't hear. He was remembering. Was this going to be painful for them?

What would happen if - when 7 remembered that she and 9 had loved each other?

"What're you doing to him?" H said, his low voice even deeper than 8's now, and his glare at 9 burning a hole through him. But before 9 could reassure him that A would be alright, A spoke up. His voice was a soft whisper at first, but it grew to a steady talking voice by the end of his sentence.

"He's telling the truth, and we have to trust him. He came back for us. Again." A looked up weakly, a smile on his face. He blinked then, seeming to remember something else, and looked to 7. He understood what 9 had left behind. His face, so pitiful, sympathetic, turned back to 9, and 9 could only hide his face by looking down. "At a great expense..."

There was silence for a minute, then G stood, not knowing exactly what was going on but not wanting 9 to feel anymore like the way he looked.

"Tell me, then." he said gently, yet firmly at the same time. So like 7... "I want to know what's going on, please." The last word seemed too soft to be coming from G's mouth.

9 nodded, thinking. He had told A the highlight of his purpose, and that had made him remember. There was a word he had to say, or a sentence, that would set off that spark of recognition in them. He had to find each of their codes.

G. G's purpose had been To Kill It - "It" being the monster 9 was talking about with A, the Skeleton humanoid monster that had been only a distraction the BRAIN had made so 9 wouldn't come to destroy it - so maybe if 9 told him...

"You were the one that killed the creature. A had sacrificed himself to an electrical power cord, and had immobilized the monster. You had been the one to kill it after the two brothers C and D had managed to knock it into the trench. Do you remember now?"

It had been obvious that he remembered. His face had gone from straight and attentive to one of pain and understanding at once. G didn't stumble, much too agile and strong to withstand even the strongest headache as memories he didn't remember pushed their way inside his mind.

"Y-yes..." he said, his voice sounding tired, and when he opened his optics, 2 was by his side, a hand on his shoulder and soothing words coming naturally from his mouth. G smiled, the man he'd never met reminding him of B.

9 smiled and turned to H, who in turn raised an eyebrow. If H thought 9 was performing spells on his family though, he didn't show any fear, more determination to not be affected as well.

Just as 9 was about to speak, 6's suddenly spoke up.

"N-no time..." his unsteady, weak voice croaked from 9's right side. They all turned to see 6 standing, hunched over more than usual, gripping his key, and pointing to the tunnel. "Later... M-must... Katrina..."

Something in that last word was special, important, beautiful, amazing. 9 felt the usual pull of intrigue at the new word. Was it a name?

"Jason's following, make sure he see's you..." F added, rubbing 6's hunched shoulders as if she were a housewife putting on her husband's coat before he went out for work. That very well might have been what she was doing. 6 nodded, his optics already drooping as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and the pain now obviously originating from his middle section, where, had he been human, his stomach would be.

When 6 seemed a little brighter with the massaging, F looked to 9, then to 7, and back to 9, her fabric lips tight. "You two, bring the puzzle piece back as one..."

Having absolutely no idea what F meant, and each of them gently taking hold of 6, they headed for the tunnel.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" A called to them, obviously wondering why they were taking the incredibly sick "patient" out walking in the wasteland.

7 and 9 exchanged a look, and 9 turned back enough to reply just before they entered the darkness of the tunnel once more.

"From my experience alone, I'd say it's wise to do exactly what F or 6 tells you, A!" 9 called, a smirk in his tone. "And this time, the both of them told us. G, A, I don't want to sound like I'm giving orders, but you must understand now how important it is that you remind them all of who they are. Please..."

And with that, they were gone, leaving the two stitchpunks to teach the others of their past as they apparently took care of some important business.

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Even with what he'd reassured G with, 9 wasn't sure why he was leading an obviously tortured 6 away from any possible help he could get. It occurred to him that 7 probably had noticed he hadn't let B or 2 check on him to find out what was wrong. He decided to subtly explain.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, 6." he began, smiling in the dark and patting 6's back gently as he helped him along. "We've been through enough to know this is no ordinary malfunction, am I right?"

In the dark, 6 smiled slightly at how well 9 understood him now, though his grin was unseen in the pitch black of the tunnel.

"No malfunctions... No fixing..." 6 said, obviously tired. 9 frowned slightly, concerned. This definitely wasn't normal for 6. When something this important was happening, he usually would be very excited. Now, it seemed as if something was draining his energy, and 9 was going to get to the bottom of it.

They eventually made it out of the tunnel, both 7 and 9 now tired with having to almost but not quite carry 6 out of it. Their optics adjusted to the dim light easily, because the only difference was a bit of light streaming through a far away window, way down the hallway they were now in. 6 whispered something, but neither of them heard what he said, and when 7 asked gently, 6 responded with another unintelligible whisper.

"Come on, we'd better do what he said." 9 said grimly, wondering if they really should have dragged 6 out of the safety of the hidden room to begin with.

They began to walk back the way they had come, knowing there would be an exit that way, but 6 kept shaking his head and trying to point straight, and they finally understood and walked on that way. It was only several minutes before they reached the end of the hall, a giant locked door standing proudly to their right. The keys were still in the door knob, and a set of stairs small enough for them lead up to it. Without so much as an understanding gaze, 7 relieved 9 of 6, and gently sat down with him, letting him rest his head in her lap as she watched 9 ascend the steps.

"Where do you suppose he's taking us?" 7 asked finally after 9 had reached the top.

9 looked down at her and shrugged.

"I'm not sure," he said, a bit of a frustrated look on his face. "It could be a number of things with what we've seen. It could be anything at all to do with the talisman..." 9 placed his hand on his stomach, patting the near forgotten piece concealed within him. "Or it could be something to do with why it hasn't rained yet..." 7 looked through another window, which was giving the dim light that they had used to see by all the way down the hall. "Or..." 9 pondered. There was another thing it could be, but he didn't remember.

"Katrina..." he finally said, not loud enough for 7 to hear him. He looked back at the key, and in a moment of inspiration, he grabbed it and turned it until he heard the click of the door, now unlocked.

7 looked back at him, watching him carefully. 9 tried to grab the doorknob with his metal hands, but they slipped, so he grabbed it with his entire body, using the burlap he was made of to cling to it and turn it open. He slipped a few more times, but eventually, the satisfying click was heard once more, and the door popped open slightly.

9 immediately noticed the change in the feeling of what was inside the door. The air wasn't as dry, and it felt warmer than the cold he had started getting used to. He told 7 to hold on while he came down, but she was already up, 6 in her arms, and walking toward the small space 9 had managed to open.

"Wait!" 9 cried, sliding down the stairs and landing rather nimbly in front of her. 7 didn't flinch, but only blinked in surprise at how agile 9 had become.

"What?" she said, still quite stunned at his performance.

"I'll help you with 6." 9 said, smiling to hide his embarrassment. He was going to say that they didn't know what was behind this door and to be careful, but he figured 7 could handle herself, and she might be insulted if he said that she may be walking blindly into unknown territory. It was the art museum after all, their friends' home. So why should they be nervous to go in any doors? Even the locked ones.

"Alright." 7 said, finding herself smiling back. She could tell what 9 was going to say, and in truth, she was glad he had stopped her. Even if this was a safe place, maybe what lay behind this door wasn't the safest thing in the world.

She handed 6 to 9, and suppressed a soft giggle at how 9 had to adjust 6 about ten times until he could carry him well.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" she asked teasingly, smiling at him. 9 stared at her, his optics lingering on her lips, and his mouth going slack. 7 had never seen someone look at her like that, and she was shocked and confused. Why was he looking at her like that? "9?" she asked again, breaking the spell.

"What? Yeah, yes, I... yeah I can." he said, lowering his optics to the floor and shuffling past her. As he passed, 7 realized her cheeks were warm, and she placed her hand on one of them, watching after 9 with a raised eyebrow.

"Stop it 7," she whispered to herself after 9 had walked well enough away. "You've got to stop thinking about him..."

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	12. Blue Eyes and Madness

**A/N:** Apparently there were more than 11 chapters. :D

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Weight of the World

Chapter 12: Blue Eyes and Madness

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9 held back his grunt as he adjusted 6 in his arms. He was carrying the poor stitchpunk now, his friend too weak to walk without stumbling. 9 was shocked as to how little time 6 had been inflicted with what appeared to be a disease. It had come fast, and had taken so much damage already. 9 swallowed his worried half-smile.

He walked past the small opening in the door and peered inside. After seeing nothing of danger, although he expected as much, he walked on.

The room reminded him of the First Room, papers tossed everywhere and books stuck forever on one page where someone had left them. Melted candles' wax dripped all around the place, but there were no flames. There was however a few strange things about the room. For one, it was warmer than the hall had been, and though it had no window, it was easy enough to tell where the heat was coming from. 9 only had to walk into the middle of the floor to see it tucked in the far corner, a small radiator, the metal a dull red color, and seeming the source of the warmth. Since there was no electricity, the stitchpunks had had to figure out how to either deal with it, or learn to make their own currents. 9 had somehow come with the knowledge of basic scientific principles, and had invented himself a lightstaff that consisted of a light bulb and wire, and of course the staff. So, 9 had to wonder, if there was no electricity, how was an electrical appliance working?

"Someone's in here..." 7 said behind him, making 9 blink. He no longer flinched at the small things. "I feel it. It's watching us..."

9 felt it too, but he hadn't paid attention to what it was until she had brought it up. A presence, a form, somewhere near them, just watching them. It was listening...

"Is it dangerous?" 9 soke quietly, uncertain himself if it was. How could it be? 9 had defeated the monster that made anything dangerous in this world. Besides, why would 6 lead them to their doom?

7 was behind 9, but he could tell she was gripping her spear tightly, lowering her skullmet, and preparing for defense. 9 spoke anyways.

"Hello?" he called, his voice sounded flat and boring as opposed to the usual echo when he spoke this loud in the places he had been. "Come out, we won't hurt you..." Unless of course they hurt us, he added in his head, though he thought it highly improbable.

9 held 6 tightly, protectively, getting slightly uneasy in the silence that answered his call. He stepped backwards, right into 7.

"Hey, careful." she said softly, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder as her optics continued to search the room for the thing she knew was inside. 9 turned his head the other way, scanning the other side of the room carefully.

He saw what he was looking for almost immediately, but he didn't react, both in caution and protectiveness. He had seen it right by the radiator, down a bit, behind a book. The faintest outline of a figure leaning flat against it, obviously trying to hide. But 9 had only seen that after he had seen the initial giveaway. The purest blue he had ever seen had caught his attention. Dark, beautiful, mysterious... Two lights the size of his optics were present where the figure's own optics should have been, but 9 wasn't so sure they were optics...

The figure was staring right at him, its eyes piercing 9's very soul.

9...

For the first time in a while, 9 winced. He had heard the name in his mind, and not even 6 could speak to him there. 6 could read his mind, but talking to him through it was different.

And another thing, how did it know his name?

"What is it?" 7's voice came quickly behind him, and before 9 could say anything, 7 gasped. "9, get 6 somewhere safe."

Before 9 could stop her, 7 sprang out from behind him, and in a flash, the figure had slipped back into the shadows, safe. 7 ceased immediately, gracefully coming to a halt and holding her spear delicately, making it look an extension of her arm as she waited for the figure to jump out at her. 9 held in his sigh of relief, and instead used this moment to tell 7 his hunch.

"7, wait!" he cried, shifting 6 slightly and immediately feeling a twinge of guilt when the artist moaned in pain. "Sorry, 6. 7, what if she's harmless? Don't attack yet!"

7's shoulder twitched, but her optics and most of her attention remained on the shadows, prepared for anything to jump out at her. "She? How do you know that?"

9 blinked, surprised himself. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue? How else could he feel so surly that this was a feminine stichpunk?

"I... I don't know." he admitted.

A soft giggle made him jump, and turn frantically to his side where it had come from. He could see her now, much clearer. Her glowing blue eyes pierced him, made him immobile. 7 saw his reaction and sprinted back the way she had come to throw herself in front of 9, her spear held protectively over him and 6.

"You're not getting to him." she said firmly, glaring at the stitchpunk still half hidden in shadows.

6 made a noise, his head slowly shaking. His daze broken, 9 looked down to his friend.

"What's wrong, 6?" he asked gently, rubbing his arm. The artist moaned something unintelligible, raising the arm to point to the mysterious new stitchpunk.

"D-draw... ing..." he said, very weak. 9 understood, for the most part.

He looked up, just in time to hear the new stitchpunk speak.

"Why would I want to?" she asked with a coy tone, a smirk on her pretty face. Her voice was like liquid gold, making 9 shiver with a strange feeling inside of him brewing. "You two invaded _my_ home, started to attack _me_. Why would I want to do anything right now but make sure you leave, you pathetic female?"

7 was listening at least, until the stitchpunk insulted her. Her optics went mad, glaring acid into the stitchpunk and her body language telling 9 she was going to attack.

"Alright, bitch." she breathed, tensing her muscles. 9 panicked, the words to make 7 stop caught in his throat. She was one of the two 6 had drawn, they couldn't harm her! Stop, 7! Why couldn't he say that?

6's optics flew open, and 9 could _feel_ the sudden strength in his body. 6 leapt out of 9's arms and leapt at 7, who had already begun sprinting, her spear raised.

"Leave her be!" 6 screamed, pouncing on her and surprising everyone. Anger pulsed through 9, but he was too frozen from shock to move.

Once 7 was down, the wind knocked out of her, 6 didn't stop. He grabbed for her spear, which she offered little resistence to since she was practically immobilized for at least a few more seconds, and he held it high over his head, looking ready to kill 7. But 9 knew what would happen if he tore her body apart, it wouldn't kill her, but it would separate her soul from her body, and she would have to haunt this place for the rest of eternity.

Words caught up to 9.

"6! Stop!" he screamed, flying now at 6, who easily, surprisingly, dodged. 9 fell flat on the floor, cursing himself and trying to pick himself up. He looked back at 7, who was rising now as well, still in a bit of shock. The wild look in 6's optics told 9 he wasn't going to hold back, and before he could even say a word, 6 plunged the spear into 7's midsection.

The world seemed to stop, 9's legs and arms seemed like goo, and his optics tightened in pain from 7's own anguished cry. He heard someone screaming, refused to believe it was himself that could sound that wounded, and felt his heart split in two.

"7!" he screamed, suddenly having the strength to move a mountain. He hauled himself up, and like an animal, grabbed 6 by his hair and torso, and threw him at least three feet away. 6 fell, keeping his head unseen, and began to dry sob himself. But 9 didn't care if he was defending the last hope for life on this planet, he hated 6 with a passion now, wanted to murder him, wanted to cut him into pieces and feed them to the Catbeast itself.

But he knew he couldn't do that now, 7 was pinned to the ground, held by her own spear to the floor. Her controlled moans of pain hurt 9 like it was him who had been stabbed. He knelt weakly by her, taking her hand.

"9, I'll be fine if you can get me to 2..." she said, panting heavily, trying to block out the pain he knew she felt. "Just help me up, 9..." She gripped his hand like he was the only thing keeping her conscious.

"Ok, 7, I promise... You'll be ok." he said, screaming frantically inside and crying like a baby, but outside showing only strength for 7 to feed from him. Still holding onto her hand, not that she would have let him go, he reached up, and as gently as he could, unwedged the knife from her back. 7 muffled her cry into her own arm, then looking up to 9.

"I can move my legs, but it's going to be painful." she admitted, holding his hand harder. "Can you carry me?"

Without hesitation, 9 nodded, not trusting his voice any longer. He had forgotten 6, and the reason 7 was injured. All there was in this room was the immediately medical attention 7 needed and his hidden worry.

Even 6's sobs behind him didn't give him sympathy. 6 knew what he had done, how much 7 meant to him. Right now at least, 6 was no friend to 9.

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"He's in love with the female..." Katrina said when 9 had left, walking out of her partial shelter and kneeling by 6, cradling his head. 6 was still shaking, his body and his head knowing what he had done to 9. "Just like you and F, am I correct?"

6 looked up at her, his mouth stuck in a frown, but his nod telling her she was right.

Katrina frowned slightly, looking back toward the door. "I shouldn't have made her mad. I should have acted more civilized..."

6 stopped sobbing, but shrugged.

"Will she be fine, 6?" Katrina asked, concern now present in her voice.

"2 will help..." he said weakly, no longer ashamed at what he had done but more depressed at knowing too much of the future already.

Katrina paused, her body completely still. Her eyes closed, and when they reopened, they were of a different color. A pale orange now was present, and Katrina sat up slowly, helping 6 up with her.

"I hope she's alright." she said then, her voice different, changed like her eyes. It was more young now, a light voice of a female teenager. Her posture was different as well. She no longer held herself high like a queen, but flexed herself like a proud girl of 15. "It feels like it was me who hurt her... 9 isn't going to be happy."

6 didn't show any confusion at her change, but instead nodded, adding his own two cents and looking after the door like Katrina did.

"Won't be happy for a long time..."

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	13. Jason

Weight of the World

Chapter 13: Jason

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Carrying his wounded 7 back through the tunnel was nothing, the sudden strength 7's injury gave him was enough to carry a hundred 7's. But even still, the emotional pain was horrible. 9 ignored everyone's questions and simply brought 7 up to the medical table, looking at 2 expectantly who had already been there, waiting.

The first thing 2 did was remove the spear from 7's insides, carefully and precisely with the help of 5's skilled hands, and then he made sure anything that was damaged could be repaired.

"The spear nearly missed a crucial wiring system that could have made her... Well, let's just say there would be no other generations from her if it had hit there." 2 said, 9 listening to every word like it was the only thing keeping 7 alive. "She'll be fine, though. I just have to find some tough string that'll make to sew her up, and then we'll see what this business is all about."

C came over to hand 9 some thread that matched 7's stitch color, and looked worriedly up at him. 7 had closed her eyes long ago, but as soon as she was completely patched up, her eyes fluttered slightly and her moans of dull pain came back.

"9, 6..." she muttered, opening her eyes enough to stare into 9's optics, "6 was only protecting... she... she must mean something... Don't let anyone hurt either of... of them..."

9 watched her face carefully, his mouth half open. What? Why the heck wouldn't 7 want revenge, even an apology on 6's part? He could have killed her with his recklessness!

But then, 6 was always doing things like that. It wasn't his fault. He knew more than the others, didn't he? So there must have been an unseen reason for his attack.

Could 9 forgive him, though?

"I'm going to find out what this is all about," he said, remembering at the last second that 7 still wasn't aware of what they had together and coming so close to giving her a kiss on her cheek. So close, but so far away...

"I'll come with you," G's voice sounded at the doorway, already ready to leave. 9 shrugged and walked after him, letting his hand slide against 7's hand gently, not revealing too much in his weakness.

They walked all the way back to the doorway they had come in, but stopped right outside. 9 stared almost numbly at the doorknob, seeming entranced.

G looked down and sighed, then patted 9 on his upper back. "Come on, 9, remember what 7 told you. You and I both know that 6 has got to have a reason for what he did. Don't you want to find out?"

9 looked down at the floor, nodding silently. He did, really, so why did he feel so hopeless?

They walked into the room and looked around. "6?" G called cautiously, his knife already in hand, but loosely to his side to show 6 that he was only taking precaution.

"Must understand..." 6's voice came from the same spot he had been in when 9 had fled. 9 blinked in numbness.

"Can't destroy future, 9, can't..."

9 allowed his eyes to meet 6's. Can't. The same word he had used to allow 9 to understand that he was the only one who's soul couldn't be ripped from his body, the only one who can go back in time to save them if they needed it, the only one with the burden of having to live next to someone who was once your lover who now thinks of you as a friend.

"What is she, 6?" he asked, not coming any closer but not backing away. His curiosity was slowly bubbling out from his numb anger. "Why do we have to protect her?"

"Life."

The single word was uttered so quietly, yet it had impact. 9 began to walk closer, brushing G's worried hand off his shoulder. "Life..." 9 repeated, "You're not serious?"

"Is he ever?" G muttered under his breath. 9 ignored his comment.

"You're saying that she is the only way to bring life back to the world?" 9 asked again, almost close enough to touch 6 now, having crossed most of the floor so quickly in his new-found curiosity and disbelief. He looked around after 6 nodded. "Then where is she? How do we bring life back?"

9 was eager to know right away. It had been his goal all along to save everyone and somehow find a way to bring life back as well. If there was someone else who could do the deed for him, maybe he would get his wish.

6 lifted his head. He had been sitting crumpled on the floor for over an hour now, simply waiting for someone to come back and ask him the right questions. His optics glanced behind 9, and when he turned, Katrina was right behind him. 9 jumped.

"G-"

"I thought your reaction would be funny," he answered, laughing now. So even G hadn't found anything threatening in this new stitchpunk. That was a good sign already.

But she wasn't a stitchpunk. She couldn't be. A closer look at her eyes suggested something different. Yes, they were eyes. Not exactly human, but in the shape of them, with small jewels that appeared to be her pupils. Right now, they were a solid yellow in color, and her face looked as if she were studying 9 with the same curiosity as he possessed.

"What..." 9 could barely breathe, everything inside of him seemed to stop at the power she radiated. "Wh-who are you?"

"Katrina," she answered immediately, giving him a smile, "I'm sorry for what happened to your girlfriend, I didn't intend for 6 to be so... careful. I could have taken her, really, 6 just got in my way."

Somehow that rubbed 9 the wrong way. "Listen, you-"

"Hey, hey, I'm only kidding. Don't you worry, I can tell she'll be fine, 6 hurt her, but she'll heal. What we need to discuss now is finding Jason."

"But you-... Wait, Jason?" 9 said in confusion. "There's another one?"

"Yes," she said with a giggle, "He's my... my soul mate, if you will. Without him, we can't save the world..." she paused, and then looked seriously into 9's optics. "Does the phrase 'You will be the laughter and I will be the green' mean anything to you?"

9 blinked stupidly, still processing the first bit of her information about Jason. "N-no... I've never heard it."

But he had. Some part of him wiggled when she said it, a small thought somewhere deep behind the complications of his artificial brain and even in his soul. Somewhere he had heard it, but he couldn't conjure up the thought of who had said it and where he had heard it, or even any small details about what the day had been like when he'd heard it, or the voice who said it. Nothing except the fact that somehow, somewhere along the line someone had placed it into his head.

"Wait, yes, I think I have," he said.

She smiled, her eyes suddenly flashing a deep purple. "It's talking about us. I don't understand it, I don't think, but somehow it'll play out for us. You will be the laughter, and I will be the green."

Not sure what to say, 9 nodded dumbly.

"I hate to break up this spiritual partying that's going on here," G said, his sarcastic tones coming back, "But don't you think we should introduce the princess here to the rest of us?"

"I am no princess," Katrina said seriously, not getting his sarcasm. Her eyes changed back to the yellow she had before when 9 had first come into the room, and as soon as they did, she burst into laughter. "I like you, you're funny!"

G exchanged a glance with 9, and when 9 shrugged, they all walked back toward the tunnel without much words. 9 stopped and looked back at 6, who was still crumpled to the floor, obviously too nervous about what he did to want to go back. 9 hesitated only for a second.

"6, 7 wants to see you," he said gently. 6 raised his face a fraction. 9 smiled and continued. "She made me promise not to hurt you, you know. No one needs to know what happened besides 7 and me, right?"

6 looked up then, smiling. He stood up, wobbled a bit, and took 9's hand, enthusiastically leading him back after G and Katrina. His weakness was obviously gone, and 9 wondered if it had anything to do with Katrina.

But for now, there was peace. For now, there was hope. All they needed to do was find Jason.

Whoever that was.

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**A/N:** That's all I've got, kiddies. I'm sorry to disappoint. :( If you're into Gorillaz, I've got some interesting stories you might want to check out. A 2D/Murdoc fic that's definitely more plot than slash (this one's the most popular), a no-pairing adventure fic, and one I'm still thinking up about Noodle's time in Hell, and how it changed her.

If you're not into Gorillaz, you should be. ;)


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